Nine Months: The Epilogue
by WinchestersGirl
Summary: Eighteen years until their children grow up. This is what happens along the way. [For all who have lost a parent. No need to read the first 'Nine Months' stories to understand. Series of OneShots.]
1. Sugar, We're Going Down Swinging

**Title: **Nine Months: The Epilogue

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes: **These are the OneShots based on the Nine Months stories. For a basic review, Dean is married to Mackenzie. They have the following children in age order: River (boy), Pandora (girl; triplet), Rain (boy; triplet; stillborn), and Patia (girl; triplet). Sam is married to Alexandrine and they have the following children in age order: Isabelle (girl) and Isadora (girl).

**Enjoy!**

* * *

You'd think this family could be normal. They stopped hunting and started families, stopped traveling cross country and instead traveled to the supermarket. 

You'd think they'd be normal.

But no.

River's (age three and a half) trying to be potty trained, but he poops on the table because the food is there and food causes poopy. And Mackenzie freaks out because if he's not potty trained by September – it is June – then pre-school is out the window and there goes all that Harvard talk.

But Pandora and Patia – commonly called Panny and Patty – are pretty unusual too. They're only a year and a half old but already they're exhibiting… odd… things. Panny couldn't crawl until ten months while Patty was crawling at four. Panny pretty much skipped the whole crawling deal because who really wants to be on their hands and knees? Instead she started to walk the month after she started to crawl. And that caused a ton of new issues because _where'd the baby go_ was asked one too many times. Patty however crawled for a year before walking at fourteen months. Dean decided she was the good baby.

But that's not what makes this family so… so… unique.

No, not by a long shot.

Instead, it's the crazy stupid little things that occur daily.

Like River running outside and flashing the eighty year old woman next door (who, by coincidence, died the next day).

Or Panny escaping the house and finding that dead garden snake in the garden. Then _playing _with it.

Not even that's as weird. Try this one: Patty went into her parents' bedroom and tried on Mommy's bra at nine months. That scarred Dean for life. Finally, Mackenzie had to throw that piece of lingerie out because apparently, Pandora and Patia were conceived in that outfit and Dean insists, "They know what we were doing, Mackenzie! They're trying to punish us! They don't want us to do… you know, anymore."

So who wouldn't guess that when Dean and Mackenzie try to have a sensual Sunday morning all hell breaks loose?

* * *

"Baby," Mackenzie purrs, handing sliding across Dean's bare chest. 

It's five in the morning and all they want is some alone time because it's been so long that Dean can't remember the feel, taste, smell of his wife's skin.

He shifts in bed so that he's on his side, looking at Kenzie, while she's lying on her back; hand on his chest moving toward his arm.

"Yes," he whispers, smirking. He knows what's going to happen. He's not going to fight it.

She doesn't want to answer; instead, pulling him toward her, hands around his neck, lips under his.

He flips so he's straddling her hips and he wonders how she managed to keep the slender waist after four children.

She always likes to take it slow; prolong the pleasure. He never minds. It's not that sex is sex and that's the way it is. It's more of him liking to please her. She's his wife and god, if that isn't the most pleasurable thing she could ever do for him – just being his wife.

They get as far as her sitting up, totally undressed except the boy shorts and Dean still straddling her, boxers leaving if given two more seconds.

Then hell breaks loose.

"Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Mommy," is heard from outside the door. They managed to teach River that Mommy and Daddy's room is off limits unless invited in. If they could only teach the same rule to their bra-seeking daughter and her triplet sister. "Mommy!"

Dean freaks so fast that they go down swinging. He jerks off of her, only managing to fall off the bed. She grabs him on the way down – a futile attempt to save him because he's got a good forty pounds on her – and ends up falling with him.

He hits his head on the nightstand before his back thumps down on the floor and he's surprised he doesn't bounce back up because it feels like he should.

She lands on top of him, awkwardly: one hand holding his shoulder, the other somewhere above his head; most of her torso is on his, but her legs cause the problem. One landed harmlessly to the side of his hip, knee just missing the bone. The second was digging into his groin and god, that hurt.

He groans and she knows what's wrong. Moving as fast as she can, she gets off him and grabs her shirt from where it had been thrown only minutes before.

She practically jumps in it while Dean bites his lip so hard it should be bleeding. "God, Kenz," he whispers. "Fuck, it hurts."

And she can't reply because the "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy"'s are still out in the hallway.

He sees it in her eyes: being torn between caring for her husband and seeing what's wrong with their son. His head jerks toward the door, giving her the answer.

Two strides and she's opening it, looking down at her son who promptly stops the "Mommy"'s.

Careful not to let Dean's injured form show, she picks him up and steps into the hallway, closing the door behind her. "What's wrong, River?"

"Panny and Patty," the three year old says, through breaths because it takes a lot for Mommy to hear him, "Panny and Patty cry in baby room."

Mackenzie sighs because River has been able to tell her when his sisters will cry for the past month and he hasn't been wrong once. "Okay," the mother nods. "Come on."

River loves to help with his babies. Feeding, diaper changing, bathing, playing – you name it, he wants to do it. Mackenzie says he'll be a great dad one day. Dean says he'll be an awesome player.

Mackenzie and Riv disappear down into the hallway and open the door to the triplets' room. Crying emerges and Mackenzie knows her son was right yet again.

Putting her oldest down, she walks to Patia's crib. The youngest is screaming and crying all in one while jumping up and down in her crib.

Mackenzie picks up the girl and the crying stops. Turning to the second crib, she picks up Panny and the tears stop.

Wow. That was easy.

"Momma," Patia hiccups because crying causes those evil little things. "Ba-ba."

Mackenzie looks at her second child and Panny says the same thing. "Ba-ba."

Well, ba-bas it is then. "I'll get 'em," River shouts. He's enthusiastic and Mackenzie loves it… but he's too enthusiastic today.

He runs out of the room as fast as his three year old legs will carry him and takes the turn downstairs too hard. The next thing Mackenzie sees is his little body tumbling forward and then hears the thump, thump, thump of various body parts hitting the stairs.

One, two. Cry.

Well, it's more like a shriek but she knows what it signals. First, River's hurt. Because he only cries when he's hurt or his sisters are hurt. And his sisters are fine. Second, Dean's coming. Because when River, Pandora, or Patia cry – hell, even when Mackenzie cries – Dean's right there.

Dean shoots down the hallway like she knew he would. River's cries are muffled and Mackenzie knows Dean's holding his son.

Calmly, Mackenzie walks downstairs into the kitchen. She secures the girls in their height chairs before turning around. She grabs two bottles and fills them with milk before warming them in the microwave.

A minute later, the crying has stopped and River's looking at his mom for the bottles so he can feed his sisters, the microwave is beeping, and Dean's sliding into a chair at the table as he winces from the injury he acquired earlier.

River watches his mother screw the tops on before giving him the bottles. He runs to his babies and hands them each a bottle. Pandora starts to drink but Patia gurgles and it's enough to make River jump up and down because, "Patty talked to me!"

"Good job, kiddo," Dean congratulates as Mackenzie slides into her husband's lap, causing him yet another wince. Dean welcomes her as he keeps talking to his son, "Want something to eat?" River declines with a head shake. "Alright. Why don't you go play until breakfast is made?"

River thinks. It's the most amazing thing. You can actually see the wheels spinning in his head. "Patty and Panny come play."

Mackenzie knows better. She shouldn't have even tried to put the girls in their chairs, because River always wants them with him.

She gets up and takes her daughters out of their chairs, placing them on the ground – bottles and all – in front of their brother.

He smiles and they follow him like the obedient children they aren't. Scratch that. They're obedient – just not for Dean and Mackenzie, only River.

Mackenzie sits in her husband's lap again when they're gone. He winces and she puts her head on his shoulder. "Sorry about before."

He shrugs. "What could you have done?" She sees his point as he starts to squirm underneath her.

"What's wrong?" She moves back to assess her husband only to find him trying to adjust himself. She laughs even though he can't help it.

Oh yeah, they weren't the normal ones.

* * *

This chapter isn't as good as the rest. Trust me, lol. If you don't like this one, just try one more please! You'll love the other ones. Promised! 

Thanks! Hope you enjoy!


	2. The Benders

**Title: **Nine Months: The Epilogue

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes: **Something with Sammy!

**Enjoy!**

* * *

It's a strange thing, really. 

Who would think that their past would haunt them now? Why not at the kids' six months mark? Or even their birthdays?

Any time, really.

Just when they were prepared.

* * *

"I got a name for the baby," Isabelle shrieks, running into the kitchen. The bus got there early, so Alexandrine wasn't outside waiting like normal. 

Alexandrine's cooking dinner already – a nice turkey, so she turns around, slightly surprised at her daughter's presence.

"Wow, you're home early," she smiles, leaning down, hand on either of her daughter's hips.

"I got a name for the baby!"

"What's that, Belle," Andrine smiles wider, happy that her daughter doesn't mind the new nickname she's trying out.

"Missy Bender."

Disgusting, yes. Cute for a child, yes. A name for the baby, no. "That's adorable," Alexandrine tells her daughter. "Now let's start your homework."

* * *

It's seven and they're seated for dinner. Izzy giggles in the height chair that they'll be tossing out soon because Izzy's a big girl and the baby already has a new one. Sam sits across from his daughter and Alexandrine is at the end of the table. 

"How was everything at the firm," she asks curiously.

"Alright," Sam shrugs. "How's it at… pre-school?" He gives Izzy a smile and puts emphasis on the last word, causing the girl to giggle and squirm in her seat.

"Fun, Daddy," she yells and Sam loves the sound of her voice. "I got a name for the baby!"

"What's that," Sam asks, honestly intrigued because the baby's name changes daily.

"Missy Bender!"

Sam drops his fork and has one of those rare, but scary _oh shit_ moments. "What?"

"Missy Bender!"

Alexandrine notices the look on her husband's face and she wonders if this is something from the firm or something from his past life of hunting or just something he doesn't like. "Honey," she starts, "how'd you pick that name?"

Isabelle smiles because her parents agree that should be the baby's name. "Missy Bender was a girl in school. She talked to our class about mean parents. But I said I have nice parents and she asked me why I say that." Isabelle took a big breath. "I told her because you give me good night kisses and hugs and buy toys and make dinner."

"What happened next, Izzy," Sam asks, voice deep, bordering protectiveness.

The little girl continued, indifferent, "She said what's your name and I told her Isabelle Winchester but Daddy calls me Izzy. And she asked if my Daddy's name was Dean and I told her I had an Uncle Dean. Then she said is my daddy named Sam and I said yup, he's the best daddy in the world." Isabelle took another deep breath. "And that was it. She smiled at me and said, 'Tell your daddy and uncle Dean thank you.' I think we should name the baby Missy Bender because she was nice."

* * *

So they were prepared for that. They handled it well. 

It was nothing out of the ordinary, just a person talking to the children about abuse.

And her name was Missy Bender.

She was someone Sam and Dean helped a long time ago.

And she wanted them to know she's doing fine, thanks to them.

She never did bother them.

And they never did name their baby Missy Bender, even though sometimes, Sam thinks they should've.


	3. Make A Memory

**Title: **Nine Months: The Epilogue

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes: **Nope.

**Enjoy!**

* * *

River loved his Mommy and Daddy. Truly, he did. 

He loved to tell them everything he learned that day.

He loved to tell them all about the girls at the pre-school. And about Abby, his girlfriend.

He loved to tell Daddy about how Patty and Panny were growing up and learning and talking to him.

He loved to tell Mommy about how Daddy would take him for ice cream in the middle of the night and they'd talk about Grandma Mary and Grandpa John.

* * *

"River," Dean whispers, opening the bedroom door a little. His son's asleep in his bed, just like normal. "Riv," Dean persists, kneeling next to the younger's bed, "wake up." 

And River turns over, opens his eyes slowly. "Hi, Daddy."

"Hey, buddy."

"School time?"

Dean smiles. His son loves school and Dean can't manage to understand why. But hey, learning is good and that's what happens in school. "No. Ice cream time."

River smiles, a lazy, half asleep smile. "Okay."

Dean picks up his son, snuggling him close before walking out. They get to the car and Dean slides him in the front passenger seat of the Impala. Once all buckled in, Dean gets in himself.

They pull out and Dean's amazed that Mackenzie never knows.

On the way to their local ice cream polar, River talks. "Mommy showed me how to bake cookies today. We burnt them. But they were really good. Even Nana," – Mackenzie's mother, - "thought so when she tried one. And Pandora and Patty thought so too."

Dean can't help but smile. "You didn't save one for Daddy?"

River suddenly gets quiet, thinking. "Mommy left some for you, Daddy!"

"Oh, you're right," Dean plays along.

Turning off the engine at the ice cream polar, Dean unbuckles his son, pulling him into the father's lap before getting out.

Dean sets River down, p.j.'s and all. River scurries to the window and the same old charming lady is working tonight.

"How's it going, River," she asks with a smile.

"Good," River lights up. "Do you have rainbow ice cream, Miss Fields?"

"I saved some just for you." Miss Fields disappears from the window, only to return a few seconds later with a cone filled with rainbow ice cream.

River smiles and takes it happily before licking the prize.

Dean gives a small chuckle at his son before reminding him, "What do we say?"

"Thank you, Miss Fields!" River scurries over to the benches and sits, waiting for his father.

Dean gets a small cone before paying and sits next to his son. River's made a mess of the ice cream. It's all over his face and he'll need a bath when they get home, but Dean doesn't mind. River's just a baby and babies have the right to be messy. Dean learned that the hard way.

Dean takes a lick of his own dessert before starting, "Did I ever tell you about the time Uncle Sammy got scared of clowns?"

River shakes his head 'no' and Dean knows that the boy's in for a good time.

"Well, Uncle Sammy and I…" He dives in, telling his son all about how Sam loved to play with clowns until one Halloween when Dean dressed up as a clown and scared Sam to the point of wetting his pants. "And ya know what Uncle Sammy did?"

"What," River's face lights up again, smiling wide. He loves to hear stories like this.

"He wet his pants!"

River laughs so hard that he falls backward and Dean has to catch him. It's a childish laugh, one that Dean relishes in. He loves to hear his children laugh and to see them smile. It means the world to him, to know his children are happy.

Once ice cream is finished, Dean cleans off his son the best he can before taking him home.

River's tired as Dean gives him a quick bath and changes him into new pajamas. As soon as Dean lays him down to bed, the boy falls asleep, another night of ice cream and stories behind them.


	4. Let You Down

**Title: **Nine Months: The Epilogue

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes: **Nope.

**Enjoy!**

* * *

River wanted to learn how to use the potty. Honest. 

It just didn't click to well.

Instead of running to the toilet when he had to go potty, he'd go to the kitchen table, climb up, and squat.

Dean didn't enjoy finding that and neither did Kenzie. Especially that time they found their daughters playing in it and River was hiding in his room.

This was no way for a gentleman to act. And Dean was going to break his boy of the habit.

He tried talking to Riv. He spanked him for it once. He even went to the lengths of putting the Tod-Pod on the table for River. Nothing worked.

* * *

"River, this has to stop, buddy," Dean explained. "You can't poop on the kitchen table. It's not right." 

River hung his head but nodded. "Sorry, Daddy."

Dean nodded from his place kneeling in front of River's car bed. "It's alright. Come here." Opening his arms with a smile, River took the clue. Ever since Dean read that book on parenting when Mackenzie was pregnant the second time, he had hugged his children three times daily because that's what the book said you should do.

Three big hugs, a tickling session, and 'good night' ritual later, Dean came out of River's bedroom and went into his own where his wife was already asleep. He stripped his clothes and changed into boxers before sliding under the covers and snuggling up to his wife.

"How'd it go," she whispered even though she was half asleep.

"Okay," he answered.

"He'll stop?"

"I think so. I hope so."

* * *

The next morning, Dean tried to whip out the front door. A kiss to his three favorite girls and main boy – plus Freddy needed a hug – and a grab of the coffee mug. He was set to go. 

"I'll be home on time," he called to his wife. "See you all later."

He was just about to shut the front door when he glanced at the kitchen table.

Oh my God.

With no underwear, River sat on top of the kitchen table, cross legged.

"What are you doing," Dean asked – anger holding itself inside.

River looked up to his dad and smiled. "Potty."

Dean groaned, put his mug down on the hallway table, and strolled into the kitchen. He picked his son up and walked – arms outstretched – to the bathroom. He plopped the boy on the Tod-Pod. "This is the potty, River," Dean bit out. "This is where the poo-poo and the pee-pee go. Not your toys, not lunch, not anything but poo-poo and pee-pee. We understand?"

River's daddy was angry. And a mad daddy meant River did something wrong. But he didn't know what.

River burst out crying.

The next thing they knew, Mackenzie's in the room with two baby girls toddling after her. Glancing up from her son on the toilet to her husband who showed his angry face openly, she had one thing to say. "Get out. Now."

"Don't baby him," Dean replied coolly.

She raised an eyebrow and he knew if his car wasn't gone soon, his life might be. He gave River one more glance before scurrying out and to work.

* * *

Later that night, when Dean came home, nothing was said about potty training. 

Dean never found out how Mackenzie did it – but River never pooed on the kitchen table again.

Maybe he just wasn't cut out for the father thing.

* * *

Just so you know, this chapter is a two-part with the next one. Hope you enjoy! 


	5. I Feel Bad

**Title: **Nine Months: The Epilogue

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes: **Nope.

**Enjoy!**

* * *

He'd tried. Dean tried to be a good father, but somehow it just wasn't working. 

He couldn't get River to poop on the pot while Mackenzie did it in a day.

And now that he thinks back, there's tons of other things that count for his awful fathering skills: River being picked up late from pre-school because Dean got the time wrong, Patty smacking her head on the bumper of the car because he let her get underneath it with him, Panny crying for six days because Dean didn't have enough wits to see that she was teething (Mackenzie was out of town for work). Hell, you might as well throw Freddie being torn to shreds because stuffed animals shouldn't be taken for a ride _under _the lawnmower on there. And while we're at it, Dean might as well be to blame for Rain dying. It was his sperm that was faulty, right?

* * *

Dean huffs as he enters the master bedroom and strips his shirt. "God." 

Obviously, he wants attention but Mackenzie's busy reading _Pride and Prejudice_ for the sixth time in the past year because she loves it ever since Dean bought it for her for Christmas. She takes the time to glance up from her place in the chair. "Hm." And leaves it at that.

He gets down to his boxers before climbing in the bed and curling up, waiting for his wife who's still sitting in the chair. "Coming?"

"Hm." And he takes that as a clue not to wait up.

See? Even his wife didn't want to spend time with him anymore.

He just sucked at being a family man.

* * *

It's six thirty the next night and Dean's supposed to be home. Supposed to be home two hours ago. 

Panny's crying so hard that Mackenzie's sure the neighbors can hear. And because of the wails, Patty and River can't sleep; so River's in the living room watching TV with Patia.

Mackenzie doesn't know what's wrong. She's tried everything: teething rings, bottles, blankets, baths, diapers.

She bounces the baby in her arms while pacing in the nursery. "Shh… Pandora… Baby, girl, please… Sh…"

The front door slamming shakes the house a little and she wonders what the hell took Dean.

Depositing the baby safely in a crib, she heads downstairs ready to kill her husband for not calling.

She sees him standing in the living room doorway, watching the other two _not crying_ children watch TV. He's just leaning there, watching the kids, not saying anything.

And something's wrong. She can feel it.

"Dean," she whispers and he turns to face her.

"Kenz," he whispers, stepping toward her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and digging his head into the crook of her neck.

He smells like alcohol. "You went to the bar?" He nods. And that's enough to send her into a fit. "Dean Winchester," she growls, shoving him away. He stumbles backward, but regains his balance, "what the hell is wrong with you? You go drinking and don't call home. But then you get so fucking drunk that I'm not sure how you got home safely." And it was true. Dean never smelt like beer unless he was so drunk that he would barely remember that night the next morning. And normally, if that happened, he crashed at a friend's _and _called his wife – both of which he did not do this time.

"Kenz," he whispers, trying to get a hold of her waist for a hug, an apology. He knows why she's mad. She has every right to be. Her live-in-the-same-house uncle was an alcoholic. So she doesn't drink and he doesn't come home drunk. It's a simple deal they made really. They didn't need to consult one another or anything. They just do it.

"No," she shouts, moving backward a step or two, causing the two children watching TV to look at their fighting parents. She glances at them before looking at Dean. "Sleep on the couch." Brushing past him harshly, she turns off the TV and picks up _her_ children. "Bed time."

There's no wails or frowns or pouts, because they both sense the hostility between their parents and that's one thing they're good at – keeping put when needed.

Mackenzie heads upstairs and puts River to bed first with a kiss on the forehead and a tuck-in hug. Then she lays Patia to sleep with a kiss and hug too. She picks up the still crying Pandora and walks out of the nursery, hoping that her other children will get some sleep.

She brings her baby to her bedroom. Dean's in there, getting clothes, but Mackenzie ignores him. He walks out without a word.

* * *

It's three in the morning and all is quiet and asleep except the still crying Pandora and the still trying-to-soothe Mackenzie. 

Nothing works on the baby and if she's not quiet within the next half hour, Mackenzie's heading to the hospital, baby in tow.

"Panny," Mackenzie, soothes, holding the baby tightly in the rocking chai r, but the infant wants nothing to do with it.

The wailing continues.

That's when the door to the bedroom opens and Mackenzie's heart stops for a second.

It's only Dean though.

He strolls in, wearing only boxers, sleep in his eyes. The hang over is obviously beginning and it's killing him. She sees that, too, in his eyes.

He stops in front of his girls before nodding to the baby and opening his arms.

Giving up – she has no better ideas anyway – she hands Pandora to the baby's father.

Immediately, the wails stop. Pandora cuddles into her father's touch and falls asleep within seconds.

Fucking baby.

"Go to bed," Dean tells his wife before turning away, ready to go to the other room and let his wife sleep.

He almost makes it outside the room when his wife speaks up, "Why'd you go?" And he knows she's caught him because he only drinks when there's a problem. It was a deal he made with himself a long time ago: no drinking when he has a family. But he breaks it when there's something _really_ bothering him. But even when he goes to the bar with the guys, he calls. Says when he'll be home. And she normally can tell why he's heading for a round of Sam Adams.

He pauses at the doorway, baby still in his grasp. "I'm not meant to be a dad, Kenz. You know it; I know it."

"That's bull." And he knows she'll set him straight. "You know how long I've tried to get that baby to sleep? I've been trying since five. It's three, Dean. I've tried everything: bottles, diapers, blankets. But you know what she wanted? Her father. That's you."

He bites his tongue because he wants to say _but that doesn't mean I'm the best thing for her._ But he doesn't. Just listens.

"You're the best dad I've seen with any kid. The other mothers are jealous of you, babe." He lets out a soft snort. Yeah; that sounds about right. "The kids love you, Dean. I love you. And they don't want any other father; I don't want any other husband."

He smiles and winces: the headache's coming on fast and he can feel it.

She notices. "Put her to bed." It's an invitation and he knows it.

So he disappears into the hall and steals away into the nursery. He lays his girl down to bed before checking on the other triplet. Assured that all is good in this room, he checks his son, but nothing's wrong there either.

He goes back to his wife. She gives him water and Advil before the backrub to release the tension in his arms and back and neck.

And god, he's glad he's got this wife, this son, these daughters.

He falls asleep, wife flush up against him.

And he knows he's a good dad.

* * *

Okay, so he exaggerated. 

Mackenzie bribed River to get him to go potty on the potty. And that's not the way to raise children – Dean knew that.

River got picked up late because the teacher did actually give him the wrong time.

Patty hit her head, but she learned all about cars with her daddy. She smiled the whole time they were in the ER. And there was nothing wrong with her except a small bruise.

Panny's teething only started the last day. She just wanted her Mommy for the other five – something Dean couldn't give her.

Freddie met his untimely death because River left him in the yard and Dean just didn't see.

And Rain died because of stress to the womb.

None of that can be blamed on Dean.

So maybe he is a good father.

Screw maybe.


	6. It Ain't Easy Bein' Me

**Title: **Nine Months: The Epilogue

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes: **All the chapters are OneShots, so the ages change around a little. For example, last chapter the kids were older than they were in this chapter. Just know that all the kids are young unless otherwise mentioned. Enjoy!

**Enjoy!**

* * *

July 17th rolls around and Dean knows hell will break loose. 

By this time the girls are turning two and River's already four. Dean's scared because he's thirty-seven but he's smirks at his younger, more attractive wife who's turning thirty-four in December. Oh yeah, he still has it.

But he knows that something's wrong this year.

Last year, they managed. They slid by without a freak out or a breakdown. But Dean knows it won't work that way this time.

* * *

"Kenz, you okay," Dean asks, concerned. His wife is especially quiet this morning. 

It was three in the afternoon. Dean had the kids all ready for the family birthday party that would start in an hour. Mackenzie had the house all nice, the food all ready, the presents all wrapped. But she wasn't speaking that much.

"Yeah," she answers, brushing past him with the auderves. She places the mini bagel pizzas on the table before grabbing the salsa and nachos and placing them next to the pizzas.

Dean steps into her personal space, because he knows she's not alright, knows she's not okay. He places his hands on her waist and dips his head down. She's looking toward the floor and won't look Dean in the eye. "Mackenzie," he says, catching her eye, "tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing," is the simple answer. "I'm fine."

"You keep saying that, but I'm not so sure. I think you're pulling my nuts here."

And she can't suppress the small smile, eye roll, giggle. "I'm fine."

"Okay," he says, smiling because she's smiling. He pulls her close for a hug when an un-godly scream comes from upstairs. Dean can tell which daughter it is: Patia.

He pulls away, "I'll get her." Before he leaves the room, the doorbell rings.

Family is here. Start your engines and put up your guards. Mackenzie goes to get the door and start the long birthday party.

* * *

It's six and the party is going well with the exception of the thunderstorm that blew in, causing everyone to head inside. 

Right now, they're all seated. Sam's at one end of the table, eight months pregnant Alexandrine on one side and almost three years old Isabelle on the other. Next to Isabelle are River and then his adopted cousins. Across from them are Mackenzie's sister and sister-in-law and mother (her brother and brother-in-law couldn't make it). Patty is next and then Panny. Across from Patty are Bobby and then Mackenzie while Dean sits at the other end of the table.

It's a nice party and they're all enjoying.

Mackenzie's and Dean's seats are vacant, gone to get the cake and plates. It's seconds before they return.

Mackenzie places the plates and forks and knife carefully on the table. Dean sets the cake in front of his girls.

"Happy Birthday Pandora and Patia!" is written in pink on the white icing. It's a pretty cake, flowers and leaves adorning the edges. But something's missing.

And it hits Mackenzie as Dean lights the two candles – one for each girl: there should be three. Rain needs one.

But Rain's dead. Buried six feet under almost two years ago.

And Mackenzie freaks.

Rain. Rain is the only thought crossing her mind. Rain should be here. Rain should see this.

Rain's dead.

"No, no," she tells Dean, grabbing his arm as he watches his girls. "This is wrong." He turns to her and she's as white as a ghost. "Rain. Rain needs a candle."

Dean knew it would happen. He knew she'd breakdown sooner or later. "Kenz, Rain's not here," he says gently.

And suddenly everyone's silent, watching them carefully. "No! Dean! Rain needs a candle too!" She looks scared, looks terrified, looks as if she's about to let her son down.

"Mackenzie," he whispers, running a hand through her hair, "let's talk in the other room."

"No," she screams, startling the children and adults alike, "No! Rain! He… he… he needs a candle…"

And she looks at her family who's staring at her with worried eyes. That's the snapping point.

She pulls her hand away from Dean who had grabbed it before and grabs the keys off the rack before slamming the front door behind her.

They hear her fall off the steps and into the rain puddles before she gets back up. And then the car's pulling out of the driveway and none of them know what to do.

They look at Dean who hasn't moved since she left. He's biting his lip gently and Sam knows that's a mixture of worry and fear.

But no one says anything until Mackenzie's mother stands up, "We'll take care of this, Dean." And he looks at her. He knows what she wants, knows what she means.

He grabs his own keys and hurries out the door after his wife.

* * *

It takes him ten minutes to decide where his wife went. 

He gets to the cemetery where they buried Rain almost two years ago. He sees her, kneeling in front of the baby's grave.

Dean walks there slowly. He wants to give her a little time.

He's two feet behind her when she notices him. She doesn't say a word – just closes her eyes, looks to the sky, and cries some more.

Dean's soaked to the bone because it's raining and thundering and lightning and why tonight?

He leans down, puts a hand on her shoulder but she shrugs him off. "Go away. You don't understand."

And that hurts him. He understands, understands he lost a son, a baby, a child. And he thinks about the boy every night, wonders how Heaven's treating him, wonders if Rain misses his family as much as they miss him. "I do understand, Mackenzie."

She pauses her crying and looks at him. "How? How do you understand, Dean? I lost a baby… I…" She stands up, right in front of him and he knows she's going to blow. "I lost my child. You don't get that."

And all he says is, "I lost my child too."

Her eyes look taken back. She never thought about that, really. He lost a child too though. It's his baby also. It affects him just as much.

And she dives in for a hug. Because he's hurt, she's hurt. Their child's dead and it just doesn't… isn't supposed to be this way.

But it is.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, "I'm so, so sorry, Dean."

"It's okay," he says back, his own tears mixing with the rain, "I am too."


	7. Won't Go Home Without You

**Title: **Nine Months: The Epilogue

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes: **Nope.

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Fishing. 

It's supposed to be a simple thing that fathers and sons do for a good time. Right?

Wrong. At least with the Winchester family.

It's a Sunday and Dean decides to take River to the pond and do a little fishing.

But Panny and Patty beg. And it's surprising how much just-over-two-and-a-half-year-olds can cry and scream until they get their way.

So Dean packs all three of them in the car, fishing rods tossed in the trunk.

He gives Mackenzie a kiss on the cheek before they leave. "You're a good dad, Dean," she whispers before he's out of earshot.

"A good mother would join us," he teases with a smirk because she's spending the day at home. Peaceful, quiet, child-free home. And he's taking the kids. The crying, screaming, please-daddy-please kids.

But she just answers with a, "Enjoy the children, dear," and a smile that would warm him to his heart if she wasn't getting the better end of this deal.

He gets in the car – children begging in the back – and pulls out.

They're on the road for ten minutes before they park at the local pond.

Careful to keep an eye on them, Dean lets out his youngest children first before helping River. He sends them to find a nice spot in the shade where they can fish and eat the lunch Mackenzie packed them.

He grabs the fishing rods and dead bait out of the trunk, careful to keep the kids within eyesight. As he closes the back of his baby, he sees her.

A long blonde haired, blue eyed, tanned woman. He can tell what she's thinking and if he wasn't married, wasn't a father, wasn't happier than ever with his current life, wasn't in more love than he can ever imagine, he might be thinking the same thing. But he isn't. Instead he's thinking about how close the girls are to the edge of the pond when she speaks, "Cute kids."

"Thanks," is all he responds and he hopes she drops it, hopes she takes the hint. But she doesn't.

Instead, she's following him over to the water's edge and she sits at the picnic table where he puts their lunch.

"Pandora, don't get too close," he scolds, working his way over to his children and ignoring the woman watching him with hawk eyes.

He manages to get the kids rigged up. River has a fishing rod and sits at the edge of the rocks. Pandora and Patia sit on either side of him with their own rods. All three children are as happy as larks and it shows.

They giggle and laugh and Dean can't help but smile with them because they're his kids and they love life.

It's almost noon so Dean tells them sternly, "Stay right here. I'll go set up lunch, okay?"

"Okay Daddy," is heard from River while the other two manage a, "K," and a giggle.

Dean gets to the picnic table before he realizes the woman's still sitting there. He mentally rolls his eyes, but ignores her while she tries to sink a line in him. Pun intentional.

"You work so well with your kids. They're adorable."

"Thanks." He sets out lunch for four while cutting the sandwiches and cheese.

"The oldest one looks like you. He's so handsome. What's his name?"

"River."

"That's so cute." Dean sets out the juice boxes, hoping the woman will go away, but she doesn't. "What about the girls? They're twins right?"

"Yeah." He sticks the straws in the boxes before placing them on the table.

"What are their names?"

"Pandora and Patia."

"That's cute."

"My wife named them." Okay, so it's a lie – Dean and Mackenzie named them together – but maybe she'll go away if that's what he says.

"Oh," is what she manages before pulling her skirt up higher. If Dean looked, he dares to guess that he'd see her undergarments. So he doesn't look. Because he's got a wife and kids and he couldn't be happier. "What happened to her?"

"Nothing," he responds, standing back and admiring his picnic, "she's at home."

And she strikes. She pushes him into the table, bring her face as close as she can. "Affairs are so hot," she whispers.

And he's had it playing Mr. Nice. He pushes her back and she falls. "I'm not leaving my family. Ever." His eyes are fierce and there's a warning in his voice.

But before she can respond, he hears his child screaming.

Apparently, while he was trying to ignore this woman, something big caught River's line. Riv tried really hard to bring it in, but it was too big and brought him in.

Dean's head snaps toward the sound and he sees his son drowning in the twenty-foot deep pond. And before he knows it, Panny's trying to 'swim with her brother'. And where one twin goes, the other must follow.

Dean sprints as fast as he can to the pond. He sheds his coat on the way and then he's diving in, shoes and all.

When he's under the water, he sees his daughter and grabs her before coming up. She screams and Dean thinks that's the sweetest sound he's ever heard.

Holding on tight, he looks around, but there's no sign of either of his other children.

"Hey, buddy!" Dean looks up and there's a good Samaritan at the top of the rocks where his children were fishing seconds ago. "Give her here!" Dean manages to give his daughter to the man on top of the rocks.

And he goes back under the water. He can't see any of them and panic strikes his heart. They can't be dead. They just can't.

He comes up for breath before heading back down again. And that's when he sees his son.

River's lifeless body is lying on the bottom of the pond. Right next to his is Pandora.

Dean wants to cry, but he doesn't. He just swims toward them and seconds later they're in his arms.

He gets to the surface and passes up his baby girl before his son.

Two seconds later, he's on the top of the rocks, meeting chaos.

Patia is sitting on the grass, crying. The good Samaritan is doing CPR on his oldest.

Breath, breath. Thirty compressions. Breath, breath.

Dean dips his head down and begins it on his daughter. Patia tries to climb on him just as Dean realizes there's no air getting into his eldest daughter.

He shoves one daughter in an attempt to save the other. Patia lands hard on the ground and cries harder, but Dean can't help it. He has to save Pandora.

Breath, breath. Thirty compressions. Breath, breath.

After two sets of compressions, he hears River coughing up water and crying.

Dean thanks God as he gives his daughter two more breaths.

He hears River stop crying and soon after Patia's quiet too. The good Samaritan is on the phone with 911.

Dean's doing compressions again and then there's more breaths. And he's lost count on how many he's done.

Then he hears her intake of breath and the cough and she spits up water and Dean clutches her to his chest.

Her wails mix with the cop car that just pulled in, ambulance following seconds later.

"Come here," he tells his other children. He sits on the ground and both girls are in his lap while his son stands, holding onto his father's neck.

And if there ever was a second Dean would cry over his children in front of them, ever was a minute he'd break down, it'd be now. But he holds his tears in, saves them for later with Mackenzie.

"Sir, may we take a look at your children?" Dean looks up and there's the paramedic, emergency pack on his shoulder.

"Yeah," Dean manages. He hands over Pandora to one medic and River to the other. They cry for their father, but he knows what's best for them.

Dean stands, holding Patia as if his life counts on it. He walks over to the good Samaritan.

The man holds a striking resemblance to John Winchester, but that's impossible. John Winchester is dead – cremated. "Thank you," Dean says, sticking out the hand not used to hold Patia.

The man can tell Dean's voice is holding all the emotions he means: thanks to the man for saving his children, guilt to himself for letting something like this happen, relief because all his children are safe.

"No problem," the male replies, shaking Dean's hand. He looks at Patia, whose head is dug into her father's neck, and smiles, "I bet you'll be an all state swim champ." She digs her head farther into her father and doesn't say anything.

Dean smiles at his shy daughter before a medic calls him over, "Mr. Winchester?" Dean looks and nods before giving the Samaritian one more smile. He heads over to the paramedic with River.

Dean squats down, standing his daughter between his legs. "River," the medic begins, "is fine. He got one cut over here," she gestures to a patched up area on his son's forehead, "probably from hitting the rocks under the surface." Dean nods and watches his son, who isn't looking at him because well, River's expecting to get yelled at.

Dean tilts his son's head toward him and smiles, "You okay, buddy?" River nods quickly. "Okay, come here."

River shifts off of the picnic table and into his father's arm for a hug. Dean squeezes the boy as if he's going to loose him in a minute – because, hell, he almost did.

"May I look at her," the medic asks, gesturing to Patia.

Dean nods and Patia doesn't smile because she wants her daddy. But Dean puts her down and makes her stay for the medic to look at her.

He takes River's hand and they walk toward Pandora. The medic declares that she's perfectly fine also. Dean kisses her forehead before sending his son and eldest daughter to clean up the picnic table. They'll go home instead.

The two scurry off and Dean starts to fill out forms that the medic gave him. Something about release forms.

Dean's just signing his name at the bottom of the third form – because three children equals three forms – when the medic with Patia brings her over. "She's fine," the woman tells Dean with a smile. Dean looks at his daughter who's looking at him with the please-take-me-home look.

"Thanks," Dean says, switching: papers for his daughter.

A few minutes later, Dean's packing the wet Winchester family into the car and tossing the picnic basket and rods that the police officer was nice enough to get out of the lake back into the car.

They were never going fishing again.

* * *

They're home minutes later and all three children are itching to tell their mother what happened. 

Dean manages to escape Mackenzie for the day. He'll tell her everything after the kids are asleep. And she knows it.

* * *

"So what happened," Mackenzie says, walking into their bedroom after putting the kids to bed. 

Dean sighs, dropping the towel he used in the hamper before sitting on the edge of the bed.

She stands between his legs, arms on his shoulders, waiting.

And he dives in, telling her about the woman at the park and how he was making lunch when it happened. He tells her about EMS coming and about the good Samaritan, the cop and the medics. "I took them home after the paramedics checked them out."

She nods, a simple gesture. His story scares her and he knows it. He hugs her and she disappears to take a shower.

While she's gone, he misses his children, can't stand to not see them tonight. They almost died today and he wants to be by them.

So he heads into his girls' room and picks them up. They're still sleeping, but it's okay. He deposits them in his and Kenzie's bed before heading to River's room.

He gets his oldest and places him in the bed too.

Dean climbs in with them and holds them all close – an empty space for Mackenzie, River, Patia, Pandora, Dean.

Seconds later, Dean's asleep with his children.

And when Mackenzie comes out of the bathroom, all she does is smile.

Because Dean's children almost dying is something that Dean won't get over easily.

But having them close to him can only speed up the process.


	8. Cool Thing

**Title: **Nine Months: The Epilogue

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes: **Back to Dean and Mackenzie! Lol, I just can't get enough of them. Sorry about this chapter, but it's just something that Dean and her would totally do. Lol.

**Enjoy!**

* * *

They take it when they can get it. 

Alone time.

There's a beautiful ring to it. Yet, it's a rarity. And with less alone time, comes less sensual time.

Unfortunately.

* * *

They're at a friend's wedding reception. Just Mackenzie and Dean; the kids are at home with the baby sitter. 

Mackenzie's sitting there, hands in her lap, slightly nervous because these are more Dean's friends than hers. Dean's hand is over lapping one of hers as he sits in the chair next to her.

He dips his head down to her ear with a slight smirk – the one that men use to pick up women. "Let's skip out."

"Dean," she smiles, knowing what the implication is, "we can't. It's rude."

"We'll say goodbye."

"And tell them what?"

"Emergency with the kids."

Her lip is bitten softly and then, "I'll get our coats."

* * *

Most couples would stop, get a motel room. 

Dean hurries it along with his buddy explaining how River tossed his cookies and Pandora looks like she might be sick too. Of course, the groom tells him to leave; take care of his family.

Good wishes are done and Dean heads to the Impala. Mackenzie's waiting there, both coats in hand, smile plastered on her face.

"Ready," she asks.

And Dean doesn't answer, because she already knows.

He gets in and floors it, heading east. The engine roars and that's even more of a thrill.

* * *

They're there, happy and content. They're enjoying the time spent without kids and they feel so wild, because, really: who would've thought? Them? Here? Now? Doing this? 

Not, possible.

"After explaining to your four year old why he can't be everywhere with his sisters," the teacher answers Dean's question, "tell him where he can be with his sisters."

It's parenting class and they can't get enough of it.

The teacher answers all the questions they have, every last one. Mackenzie takes notes and Dean asks questions.

It's sad really; they get a thrill off of this.

But it's what makes them content and that's all that matters. Right?


	9. Bananza

**Title: **Nine Months: The Epilogue

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes: **Yay! Sammy and Alexandrine! This is a total wild thing, but, hey: where else would they get their kicks and kinks?

**Enjoy!**

* * *

It's one thirty in the morning.

Most parents who have the joy of being able to get away would be sleeping contently in a bed and breakfast.

But not Sam and Alexandrine.

Instead they're at the local nighttime hot spot – _Flyland_ – don't ask where the name came from – and they're making everyone else on the dance floor look like ice.

Sam's moving to the beat, but it's Alexandrine that everyone – girls and guys alike – are watching.

She's moving like she's twenty-one, single, and a little tipsy. She's all over Sam like a psych patient in the psych ward and Sam doesn't know what she's going to do next.

He _does_ know that they better leave. Soon.

She starts back-to-front grinding against him and he has to grab her hips to steady himself. Her arms snake up and blindly play in his hair as he leans down, mouth to her ear.

"Do you know what you're doing to me?" It's a simple question, really.

"No. Enlighten me." It's a complicated answer because there's too many ways to respond.

Thank God they're on the side of the dance floor. Otherwise, he might just have to figure out another way to tell her.

He grabs her and shoves her against the wall. With one hand on her hip, the other on her rear, he shoves her up.

She tilts her head down and sucks on his bottom lip, teeth nibbling at it gently.

She pulls away and, "I think I got it now."

He knows she's playing him, but somehow he's too far in hot-affair-even-though-it's-with-your-wife mode and too far away from responsible-parent/lawyer/husband mode to even care.

He sets her down, firmly grabs her wrist, and they escape out of the building.

They don't make it to the hotel they're staying out. Instead it's in the back of the car.

It's hot and heavy. It's steamy and there's the wild risk they're taking.

They're a respected couple, him a lawyer, her a stay-at-home mom. And there's the slight chance of being found and called inappropriate. It'd put their name in the ground and they know it.

But they're too far gone to care.

And, plus, they have to get their kinks out somewhere.


	10. Lips of an Angel

**Title: **Nine Months: The Epilogue

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes: **Nope.

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"Shh," Mackenzie scolds Dean, gently, as she pushes him back on the bed. "It's time to celebrate the birthday boy." 

It's Dean's thirty-seventh birthday The party was over, kids put to sleep. And it was time for Dean's present.

He has to admit, it's not bad so far. Mackenzie in a skimpy bra and panties is never bad.

But she's straddling him, mouth coming down on his mouth for a suck. His hands work on their own – one by her bra strap, the other in her long, not withheld hair. And apparently so do hers, because he feels a foreign hand between his legs, hovering over his boxers.

"Dean," she whimpers against his mouth. And he knows tonight will be good.

It's a few more minutes of stroking and sucking and kissing and small sounds and unclasping before they hear it.

A small whimper.

And it's not one of theirs.

"Do you hear that, Kenz," Dean asks. Mackenzie's still straddling him, her hands in his hair. His are on her thighs while his mouth is just about ready to take a lick.

"What," she asks, slightly breathless – because even though it's his pleasure session, he does a damn good job of getting her worked up.

There's another whimper and the small, "daddy," of a whisper.

And Dean pushes his wife off him, onto the opposite side of the bed. He lifts his hips and pulls his boxers up from their place around his knees. He's off the bed in another movement and flings a shirt from the hamper at Mackenzie. She hurries to put it on while still kneeling on the bed. It's big enough to cover the fact that she's only wearing underwear, so she heads to the door by Dean.

He's opening the door and looking down.

There's his three children.

River's leaning against the wall, one sister huddled under each arm.

"What's wrong, guys," is the accent out of Mackenzie before Dean can let his Kansas one slip. Their accents come out when emotions are extreme. And Mackenzie's worried; Dean's worried.

"Bad dream," Patia whispers as if the dream might come real should she speak louder than a murmur.

River nods and then he's in Dean's arms with Patty while Pandora goes to her mother.

"You too," Mackenzie asks her other daughter and receives a nod.

So they shared the same dream? It's happened before; something to do with twin telepathy the psychologist said.

"River," Dean asks, dread in his voice and the boy won't look at his father, won't give him a glance or a nod. "River, did you," he repeats.

"No, dad," River whispers.

"Okay, bed time," Mackenzie takes control. "River, you can sleep in the girls' bedroom."

It's a good five minutes later before Patia and Pandora are asleep in their respective bed. River's gone to la-la land also, in a sleeping bag between 'his' girls' bed.

That's when everything is right to Dean.

Mackenzie's standing at the foot of the beds while their children are fast asleep.

Dean's next to her, watching his beautiful family, and he just can't imagine it any other way.

He pulls his wife into him and kisses her forehead. "Ya know what," he whispers.

"What," she whispers back.

"I love you guys."

"I know."

They're silent for a second and Mackenzie's just about to pull away and tell Dean it's time for his present again, but Dean moves first.

He kisses her forehead again, lingering there for a second. "This was a great birthday."

And she just can't help it: "Old geezer gets sentimental in his old age."

And he smiles.

Because maybe she's right.


	11. Is It Any Wonder?

**Title: **Nine Months: The Epilogue

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes: **Nope.

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Little Isadora Winchester was five years old. Count 'em: five. 

With her dark, curly locks and bright, mischievous eyes, she was the cutest little girl that Sam had ever laid eyes on – and he doesn't mean to pick favorites, but that includes his oldest.

Sam was reluctant to let her go to school. He knew the boys would be after her.

Alexandrine just rolled her eyes at her husband, but she also knew that they were in for a handful with this one.

* * *

"Daddy," Isadora whispered to her father, "Daddy! Come see!" 

The Winchesters – both families – had decided to take a trip to a scenic place called the Thousand Islands (A/N: Not sure if that's really a place or not; just sounded pretty, lol). The Islands had boating and swimming and older houses and antique shops: something for everyone.

Until Dean decided they weren't fishing.

So Sam took his youngest daughter to teach her the trade of fishing, leaving everyone back at the hotel. "Izzy," he said, looking down at his daughter, holding a rope that he was using for the rental boat, "stop. There is no one-armed, smoking man over there."

"Daddy," Isadora whined – for she hated her older sister's nickname as her own – and her father wasn't believing her, "yes, there is."

"Really," Sam asked. "I don't see one. Show me."

Isadora smiled, jumped from the boat to the dock, startling her father at her ease, and ran off toward a building.

Sam, left with no other choice, sighed and followed.

"There, Daddy," Isadora shouted at the top of her lungs, pointing toward an area that Sam couldn't see yet. "There's the one-armed, smoking man!"

Sam rounded the corner of the building where his daughter was standing, jumping, pointing, smiling with his lawyer stride.

And there was a one-armed, smoking man.

* * *

Okay, so Sam needs to work on the lawyer-ing skills. 

He didn't believe his five year old was telling the truth.

And if he didn't believe her, what other innocent man wouldn't he believe?

A one-armed, smoking man?


	12. Homewrecker

**Title:** Nine Months: The Epilogue

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes:** Nope.

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"Shh," Mackenzie scolded gently as Dean whispered a rather loud 'fuck'. 

He had her back against the wall in their bathroom. Her shirt had just been whipped off and she had gasped when her bare except for a bra back had hit the cold tile. Dean was now working on her jeans.

"I want to see," he ground out, mouth working her neck.

"They're for my personal collection," she whispered, breathless, as her hands played in the short wisps of his blonde hair.

"Kinky," he replied, biting off her bra strap. "My wife likes to look at herself nude."

It had all started with the beginning of November – the current month. All hell had broken loose: River started sports, the girls had started their lessons, Dean's promotion, Mackenzie's new job, her mother's stroke, their Thanksgiving dinner, the four family parties, the play dates. And it hadn't stopped yet. So tonight, after she put the kids to bed and returned to their bedroom, it was the perfect time.

All she had to do was slip one of the nude photos she had taken of herself into the book he was reading and he was gone. That's how they ended up against the wall.

"Bite me," Mackenzie replied to his comment, which Dean gladly did.

Dean licked the bite mark to make the sting go away. "I want you," he whispered roughly, suddenly turning sweet as he placed a kiss to the bottom of her chin.

And he backed away gently, still holding her but watching – asking for permission. He always did that. He asked for permission before he gained entry to her, asked for the right to make her see stars.

And never once did she deny him.

* * *

"God, Dean," Kenz whispered as he lay down on the bed. Both of them were satisfied after three hours and one release – well, two for Mackenzie. Dean was pushing for a second round, but she denied him this one, stating, "We'll never get to sleep." 

"Your point being," he teased, leaning over her, razor stubble rubbing against her neck.

"Dean," she sighed, even though the thought of a second round was rather tempting.

"Okay," he whispered in her ear, kissing her temple, and laying back down. She curled into his side to which he was all too happy to accommodate. "What's happening tomorrow?" He had been thinking about taking her to a nice romantic dinner and afterward doing something she might like – like stargazing or swimming by the moonlight.

"I'm going to dinner with John," she answered, eyes closing, ready for sleep.

"Who?"

"John Turner? He was my high school sweetheart. He came back to town and wants to meet up."

"Hm."

"Don't tell me you're jealous," she smiled, sitting up. "After what we just did, you can't tell me that I'm going to trade you in." She was joking, obviously.

"I'm not jealous," he replied, still lying down. "Just curious."

She straddled him and leaned down to his ear as he held her hips. "Curious, huh? Well, I've slept with him once, dated him for three years, and stopped loving him a long time ago. That satisfy 'curious'?"

Dean traced gentle circles on his wife's hip. It's not that he didn't trust her; he just didn't trust some freak with his wife. Mackenzie was gorgeous – and Dean knew it all too well. If some guy had her for three years back then and slept with her once during that time, Dean knew anyone – no matter whom they were – would come back for more. "Okay."

"Dean, I'm yours. You know it and I know it." She backed up from his ear and gave him a kiss. "Don't worry so much."

"I guess," he shrugged with a smile as his wife climbed back into position next to him before curling into his side.

"I love you," she whispered into his chest. "You know that."

And he did. But the problem was he knew a lot of people loved her too.

* * *

Mackenzie had just finished putting on her little black dress when the doorbell rang. "Dean could you get that," she called down the stairs. She still had to put on the pearls Dean had given her the week prior for Thanksgiving. 

"Yeah," he answered, picking up a daughter on the way there. Opening the door, he was met with a six-foot-four, tanned, brown-haired, green-eyed man who happened to look good in the suit he was wearing.

"Hi," John said, thrusting his hand out for Dean. "I'm John. You must be the babysitter?"

Dean was about to answer when Mackenzie stepped out onto the porch next to John. "John," she squealed as he picked her up and squeezed the air out of her.

"If it isn't Mackenzie," he said, smiling as he put her down but kept a hand on her nonetheless. "You've gotten even more beautiful than the last time I saw you."

Mackenzie blushed as John led her down toward his car.

Dean, sick of the ignore-the-babysitter routine that he had played several times before himself, placed his daughter down inside and closed the door behind himself. "Mackenzie," he called, walking down the way.

She stopped and turned around as Dean came up to her. "You forgot to say goodbye," he smirked before kissing her. The kiss lasted a little too long and the hug afterward was a little too cozy for John.

"Bye, Dean," she smiled, giving him a peck on the lips. She knew too well what Dean was doing: marking his territory. But she knew what John's intentions were: quickie in the car before heading to his place.

Turning to face John, she smiled, "Ready?"

"Um, I think maybe… Mackenzie, I forgot I have an appointment for work. I'm sorry. Maybe another time." And he rushed out to his car and speed down the street.

"Didn't like the guy," Dean commented as his wife and he stood on the walkway still, watching John's car take off down the street.

Mackenzie turned around, smiling. "Me either."


	13. The Thanksgiving Song

**Title:**Nine Months: The Epilogue

**Disclaimer:**I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes:**Nope.

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"I hate that god damned bird," Sam cursed. Alexandrine and he were currently getting changed for the party at Dean's house. Conversation had gone from how close Christmas was to Isabelle's new birdie, Ryan. 

"Sam," Alex tried to relax him, "it's just a bird."

"A bird that crapped all over my case last night!" She couldn't help but laugh. True, Ryan had taken to use Sam's case papers as a bathroom… but it was just too funny. "It's not funny," Sam said, smiling.

"Yes, it is," she managed before Sam scooped her up in his arms and tossed her on their bed.

"No, it's not." He tried to restrain her, but only ended up laughing with her in an awkward pile of limbs.

* * *

"Birdie," a five-year-old River screamed when Sam's little family walked into the elder Winchester brother's house. 

"It's Ryan," Isabelle said as a matter of factly. She was four and in that stage of 'I'm always right'.

"Isabelle," Alex scolded as she helped both daughters take their coats off, "be nice."

Two hours later, they were gathered around the dinner table. Dean sat on one end, Mackenzie to his right. Sam sat on the opposite end, Alexandrine to his right. The kids were scattered in between.

"Who wants to say Grace," Kenzie asked as she put the turkey Dean had carved on the table.

"Me," Isadora yelled. She had just learned Grace and wanted to show off her new skills.

While Isadora began Grace, Ryan – who was in the other room as to not bother their dinner – wanted to join in the fun. He flapped his pretty wings into the kitchen and perched on the top of the fridge. Deciding to visit his favorite buddy, Ryan flapped on over and landed directly in Sam's hair.

Sam bit his lip when he felt the bird's dirty claws land in his just cut hair.

"Alex," he whispered. Everyone had their eyes closed so no one could see what was happening to poor Sam.

She opened an eye and let out a laugh before stifling it. Unfortunately, it was enough to make everyone look.

"Ryan," Isabelle shouted, "get off of Daddy!"

Scared, Ryan couldn't help but wet the head that fed before taking off.

Sam screamed as bird pee dribbled down onto his forehead and to the tip of his nose. "God damn bird!"

"Sam," Alex shushed. "Not in front of the kids."

Controlling his temper, he excused himself and Alexandrine followed him into the bathroom to clean him up.

* * *

Another hour had passed and they managed dinner without any interruptions from a certain bird. 

It was dessert time and Mackenzie had made a pumpkin pie especially for the kids. Everyone was seated yet again for the night as she placed the pie in front of her husband for cutting.

"Who wants some," Dean asked, smiling toward the kids – in his mind:_the babies_.

"Me," five little heads perked up.

Dean picked up the pie knife and was just about to cut it when Ryan, _the damned bird_, decided he would also like a piece. The pretty bird landed in the pie and took several steps toward Dean.

No one spoke. They were in a state of semi-shock. Did that bird really just land in the pie?

Sam stood up suddenly, causing the bird to fly away to safety.

"I'm gonna kill it," he whispered and ran in the general direction of the bird.

"Daddy," Isabelle yelled, scurrying after her father. "Don't!"

Oh, yes. It was sure a Happy Thanksgiving.


	14. That's Why God Made Mexico

**Title:**Nine Months: The Epilogue

**Disclaimer:**I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes:**Sorry for lack of updates!

**Enjoy!**

* * *

It's ten on a Tuesday night and all the kids are asleep.

It's been a long one: three doctor's appointments for the kids which meant three little children screaming at the top of their lungs because they needed a shot, one meeting with the dean of the private school they wanted their kids to go to, and a long dinner during which the twins both had allergic reactions to the food and River decided that since his sisters were turning red the food was poisoned and thus would not eat it.

Oh yeah, it had been a long day.

But the news comes on, illuminating the family room and two adults in it.

Dean's sitting comfortably in the recliner, foot rest up. Mackenzie's sitting on his lap, head on his shoulder, legs overlapping his own.

And they're silent, enjoying the moment.

Their life's hectic; they know it: never tried to deny it. So the peace and quiet comes rare, but when it does they relish in the little moments.

The ten o'clock news blares about the war in the Middle East, the writer's strike, the accidental death of an elderly lady. But Dean's thinking about the meeting with the dean earlier in the day and Mackenzie's wondering about what ingredient the twins were allergic to. And for some reason, none of the world's matters seem important to them.

He wraps his arms around her waist. "I think that meeting went well."

"I'm sure it did," she replies, somewhat absently. "I think the girls are allergic to the cherries."

"Probably. My dad was," he answers. "Genetic."

"Hm," is all she answers.

There's silence again and neither cares to break it.

She yawns into his chest and he takes note, saying, "Come on. Let's go to bed."

"No, no," she fights back. "I want to finish the news."

And he gives this little snort-chuckle, replying, "You're not even watching it."

She can't fight there; she knows he's got her. He knows too, because he turns off the TV with the remote and picks her up as if she were one of their kids.

She all too gladly wraps her legs around his waist, arms around his neck, and leans into his chest, resting her head on his shoulder. He makes his way upstairs and deposits her in their bed. He lies down next to her and neither put on night clothes or take off day clothes. Instead, they opt to sleep in whatever food-stained, child-tear marked, dirty clothes they had on all day.

And that's as long as the peace lasts.

Because tomorrow River has school shopping, the girls have gymnastics, Mackenzie has a dentist appointment, and the rest of the chaos continues.

That's why the peace is beautiful: because for two minutes of the whole day, they have nothing to do.


	15. Huckleberry

**Title:**Nine Months: The Epilogue

**Disclaimer:**I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes:**This is when Dean meets Mackenzie. Thus, no kids!

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"Sammy, stop. I agreed two weeks and that's it," Dean reprimanded his brother. 

They had decided to stay in Woodsville to relax for two weeks – no more, no less. But Sam wanted longer, wanted more normalcy.

"Dean, two weeks is nothing," Sam replied, dropping a twenty on the table in the diner they were eating in. That'd cover dinner.

"Two weeks, Sam." Dean stood up, ending the fight effectively, but not looking where he was going, and ran right into the waitress with arms full of food.

She started to fall, but Dean managed to catch her arm and waist, hoisting her up. The food was lost however, scattered around them in heaps on the floor.

He looked down, realizing how many dinners he had just ruined. "Sorry about that," he said, looking to her for the first time, arms still holding onto her as if she might fall.

And she answered, "No big deal. Ernie's fast with cooking."

What she said was to make him feel better and he knew it. But for some reason he couldn't find anything to say back.

"Sorry," Sam apologized for his brother. "We'll get out of your way." The younger Winchester grabbed his brother, pulling him out of the diner.

* * *

Dean knew the diner closed at midnight. So he purposely snuck out of the room (heading to the "bar") at eleven forty. Hopefully, she'd be on clean up crew. 

Walking in, the bell rang and he heard the groan from the kitchen. Another customer, a longer shift.

He picked a seat at the counter and watched as she walked out from the kitchen. When she saw who it was, she placed her hands on her hips, cocking one. "Haven't you done enough damage for one night, sir?"

Ignoring the remark, he replied, "I'm buying you a cup of coffee."

"I don't drink coffee."

"Tea."

"Don't drink tea either."

"Soda."

"Don't drink soda."

"A liquid."

"Don't-" Okay, he got her on that one. "Alright. What do you want?"

"Whatever you're having." And there was a slight smile that revealed itself to her.

She poured them drinks and they sat there the whole night. When it was finally time for them to leave, he asked automatically, "When can I see you again?"

And it wasn't like Dean, that's for sure. But there was something about this girl that he really liked; something he couldn't place.


	16. High 'N' Dry

**Title:**Nine Months: The Epilogue

**Disclaimer:**I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes:**Nope.

**Enjoy!**

* * *

His wife was always a little on the kinky side. He knew that well. From the time she handcuffed him to the time she asked for it in the dressing room, her kinks always showed. 

So it should come as no surprise when she hits on him during the assembly put on by Isabelle's school.

"Sam," she whispers into his ear in _that_ voice.

Her hand slides up his leg slowly, dipping in between the two. And he thanks the Lord that they sat in the back row where no one can see them.

But for God's sake, why now? Sure, they haven't done in almost two weeks. But maybe that was her plan: get him desperate then work out the kinks at Isabelle's kindergarten. Sure, that must be it.

Alexandrine smiles wide, biting her lip gently, as his arm wraps around her shoulders and lips come to her ear, "Dear, this isn't the most appropriate place."

And she can't help but shoot back, "You want the janitor's closet then?"

He surprises her by standing up, grabbing her hand, and practically yanking her into the hallway: a yes. They wave at one of their daughter's teachers before telling the other one – Ms. Sodree, "Sam has a meeting for a case. We can't stay, unfortunately." And she informs them that their daughter is doing just fine so there's nothing to worry about.

They head out the door but side step when no one's looking into the janitor's closet. And it doesn't take long – a mere twenty minutes – but they're both satisfied: kinks are gone, release has happened, and they weren't caught.

And in the end, that's all that matters, right?


	17. Making Memories of Us

**Nine Months: The Epilogue**

_I do not own anything you recognize…_

Just something I cooked up at school; that's why it's not in my normal format. Enjoy!

* * *

"Dean Winchester," she laughed, leaning over on the blanket, "you are such a pervert!" 

Mackenzie was out with her boyfriend of seven months. They had gone to a midnight movie and stopped at an all night restaurant afterward. Right now they were in the same spot that he had first whispered 'I love you' (which also happened to be the first place they had sex), watching the sun come up over the cliff.

"Come on, Kenz," he complained jokingly. "A guy needs to get some sometime."

She smiled, looking down at him. He was lying on the blanket, pillow under his head, while she was lying next to him, head propped up by an arm so she could watch him. "I'm not sure why I date you."

"It's because I'm beautiful."

"You like to think so."

He faked shock. "That hurt, Mackenzie. It really did." He turned away from her as she burst out laughing.

"Dean!"

"Go away!" He pretended to cry.

"Dean," she tried again, grabbing his shoulder to try and turn him back toward her.

"I don't want to talk to you."

"Come on," she tried, laughter subsiding.

"No."

"Dean, I'll give you some if you turn around." Of course she was kidding. It's not that she didn't like to with her boyfriend, it was just that she wasn't interested tonight.

He turned around so fast that his body fell onto hers. "Only if I can give you something first."

"And what would that be?"

He smiled, lips no more than an inch from hers and slipped the box out of his pocket. He brought it up so that it was within eyesight and snapped it open.

"Oh my God," she said, eyes glazed over at the engagement ring. "Yes!"

"I didn't even ask the question," he said, smiling as she pulled him down for a kiss.

"Well, go ahead."

He cleared his throat and sat up slowly. He deliberately played with his clothes, making them look orderly.

"Dean," she scolded. "Ask now. _Please_."

He smiled, knowing that she caught onto his games. "Will you marry me?"

"Yes," and she leapt up from sitting and into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He kissed her forehead. "I love you, Mackenzie; I think I always will."

He wasn't quite sure she heard him, but she heard loud and clear.

* * *

It was six years later as they lay on a blanket under the stars on the same cliff. The kids were home with a babysitter and the happy couple decided to spend a little while in one of their favorite places. 

"Dean," she asked.

"Yeah?" He was lying on the blanket, one armed tucked under his head while the other was around her waist. She was leaning into his side, head on his chest.

"You remember what happened here six years ago?"

He shook his head. "No." A lie if she ever heard one. "What?"

"You asked me to marry you."

"Hm."

She sat up and straddled his waist. "You can't tell me you don't remember what we did. I know you do."

"And if I do," he asked.

"Then you'll remember what we did afterward…" She was playing him: trying to get him to admit to remembering that night before she actually made her point.

He scanned her body language. Did she really think that he'd believe he was getting laid? Well, he might as well play back: "If I remember correctly," he said, acting as if it was a foggy memory, "it was you and I in the back of my car. Four times."

"Dean!" She smacked his shoulder playfully as he laughed. "That's so crude!"

"You love me for it."

She rolled her eyes. "Seriously. Do you remember that night?"

"Clear as day."

She smiled, leaning down for a quick kiss. "What was I wearing?"

"A Victoria's Secret bra, size 34C, and that little thong that I can never quite…"

"Dean!" She repeatedly hit his chest – playfully of course – as he rolled in laughter.

He caught her hands, smiling the whole time. "Okay, okay," he said. "I remember."

"What do you remember the most?"

"Besides the sex?" She gave him a semi-irritable look. "I remember the way the moon hit your face before the sun came up. It highlighted everything really nicely."

She smiled and kissed him. "What else," she asked, pushing him back onto the blanket as her mouth hovered over his.

"Your excitement." She kissed him again. "Your hugs." Kiss. "Definitely your kisses." Smile _and_ kiss. "And like I said, the back of the car… oh man." She shook her head, smiled, and kissed him anyway.

"You know what I remember," she asked.

"What," he replied, a bit more seriously.

"You telling me you loved me and that you thought you always would."

"I didn't say that," he denied.

"I love you, Dean. I think I always will," she told him anyways. She kissed him again.

"Well, I beat you," he said.

"How?"

"I know I will."


	18. Don't Leave

**Title:**Nine Months: The Epilogue

**Disclaimer:**I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes:**This is going to be like a three chapter tale. Hope that made sense! Enjoy!

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"Hey, Kenz. I'm going out with some friends, okay? I'm gonna come in late." Simple, really. Dean did go out with the guys every now and then. Mackenzie never objected; she went out with her girls. 

"Okay," she replies, putting the final touches on dinner for the night: broccoli and ham mac and cheese. "I'll see you tonight. I love you."

"You too, hon." _Click._

* * *

It's midnight when she hears the front door unlock and relock. Dean's normally home a bit earlier – around ten thirty or eleven – but he's still home and that's all that matters. He comes into their room a few seconds later and switches on the light. That's abnormal. Normally, he'd sneak around and try not to wake her up. Something must be wrong. 

"Dean," she asks, sitting up in bed, blinking as her eyes adjust to the light.

"Hey, Kenz." He's standing just inside the doorway in _that_ stance. She can tell he's panicking inside – scared of something – but he doesn't show it by his facial features. Instead, he attempts to come off carefree. And to anyone else, he might just be able to pull off that look. But not her.

"What's wrong," she asks, pushing the covers off of her. He didn't go for a drink – she can tell by the way his head isn't leaning forward slightly. So that means it can't be something too bad, right?

"No," he tells her, coming over to their bed. "Don't get up." He sits on the edge and she settles back. "Don't worry about it." He uses a hand to guide her jaw to his for a quick kiss. "I'm going to take a shower. Go back to bed, okay?"

She watches him get up and walk into the master bathroom before she lies back down.

It's ten minutes before he comes back out and lays down next to her. "I'm sorry I scared you," he says as she moves toward him to cuddle into his body. "I just found out something today."

"What'd you find out?"

"I've got a hunt I have to do."

And that confuses her. A hunt? As in killing deer and geese and all other types of game? Why would that worry him? And since when does he hunt? "What?"

He sits up in bed and turns on the bedside lamp. "I never told you about my job before I met you."

She sits up too, more confused than ever. "Dean, what's going on?"

So he dives in and tells her all about hunting, his dad, the demon, his mom. He never wanted to expose his family to this life – still doesn't, _won't_. But this hunt he has to take. It's personal. Even Sammy agrees on this one; in fact, Sammy's coming with him – probably telling his wife right now too. After he's finished speaking, Dean can't look at her. He doesn't want to know how much he hurt her. "I'm sorry, Mackenzie."

She lets out this little scoff of laughter. "I married a crazy man." He swallows hard. It hurts that she'd say that, hurts that she'd think that. She shakes her head, climbing out of bed and heading into the closet. She comes out seconds later with a suitcase and opens it up before disappearing back inside. It takes five minutes, but she's packed and ready to go. Dean doesn't say anything, partly because he's too afraid to screw things up worse. "Don't follow us." It's an order and he knows it.

Fifteen minutes later, he hears the garage door close. His kids and wife are gone. And he's not sure if it's for good.


	19. Drilled A Wire Through My Cheek

**Title:**Nine Months: The Epilogue

**Disclaimer:**I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes:**Continuation from last chapter. Hope you're enjoying!

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Sam gave his wife a kiss before kneeling to his daughters' heights. "Be good for Mommy, okay?" 

Isabelle nodded. "Okay, dad."

"Give daddy a hug," he said, opening his arms. Both girls jumped into his embrace. "I love you girls so much," he whispered. Once they pulled away from their father, Sam placed a kiss on each of their foreheads before standing up. "I'll be back soon, okay?"

"Bed story," Isadora asked, looking up at her father.

"Not that early. But soon. I promise."

Alexandrine picked up Isadora and grabbed Isabelle's hand. "Say bye-bye to daddy."

"Bye dada," the youngest said while the oldest said, "Bye daddy."

Sam shared a quick look with his wife before turning around and getting in the car with his brother. Minutes later, the Winchester men were speeding down a highway on their way to their hunt.

Dean couldn't help but ask, "How'd Alex take it so well?"

Sam looked over to his brother. He knew something was off. "She knew about hunting before we got married. I promised I wouldn't go ever again, but when this came up…" He sighed. "We talked about it. She said I should go." Dean nodded, that made sense. "Why? How'd Mackenzie take it?"

"Fine," he answered a little too quickly.

"Dean," Sam said.

He paused, biting the inside of his cheek. "She uh… she left."

Sam stared at his brother in shock. "She left you? What about the kids?"

"She took them with her."

"Dean… I'm sorry, man."

"Yeah," was all he replied.

* * *

Two days later the hunt was over. They had killed the coven that was trying to revive Azazel and made sure that old yellow eyes hadn't been brought back. All was good. 

After dropping his brother off, Dean went home, hopeful that his wife had returned.

He pulled into his driveway and opened the garage. Her car wasn't there. He got out and went inside the house, starting in the kitchen first.

There was a letter written in Mackenzie's stationary labeled 'Dean'. He opened it quickly, hoping it just said they were going out for a movie and would be back soon. But he knew the odds were against him on that one.

"_The kids and I aren't coming home. I'm going to contact my lawyer and I'll have him send the divorce papers. I'm sorry, Dean."_

Dean went numb inside before leaning against the wall and sliding to the ground. Holding his head in his hands, he cried.


	20. Everything Will Be Alright

**Title:**Nine Months: The Epilogue

**Disclaimer:**I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes: **Last chapter to that little three chapter tale. Since you guys all reviewed so quickly, I posted sooner. :) Enjoy!

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Two weeks later and Dean hasn't heard anything from them. It's not a bad thing; could be worse. He could have heard from the lawyer, but hasn't. 

So for the past two weeks, he's been working overtime. In fact, just in the past seven days he's worked over one hundred and forty hours – and there's only a hundred sixty-something in a week. When he wasn't working, he was having a few beers to numb the loss of his family or getting sleep in shifts of three hours.

He's on his third beer on the fifteenth night they've been gone when he gets the phone call.

"Dean?" It's not Mackenzie, but hearing from her mother is enough to sober him up.

"Mrs. Williams?" He bolts up from sitting in the recliner and drops his empty beer bottle.

"Yes. Dean, how are you doing? Did you get help?"

He closes his eyes and sighs, "Mrs. Williams, with all due respect, I don't need help. I told your daughter the truth."

"Ghosts don't exist, dear."

"Okay," he replies. "Fine. How are the kids? How is she?"

"The kids miss you. They don't understand why they aren't at home. And Mackenzie… she's… she's having trouble with all this."

"But she's okay?"

"Otherwise, yes."

"Thank God," he whispers, relief flooding him.

"Dean, the reason I'm calling is because River's birthday is tomorrow. I think you should be here for his party."

"She won't shoot me if I walk through the door?"

"You let me worry about her. River needs his father here for his party."

And he finds himself nodding. "Okay; what time?"

* * *

It's five the next night and Dean's knocking on Mackenzie's mom's door. He cleaned himself up for the occasion. He even went as far as to clean up the house and recycle all the beer bottles in case his family comes home with him tonight. 

River answers the door, his sisters trailing behind him. "Daddy," he screams and the next thing Dean registers is dropping to his knees and hugging his son so tight that it hurts.

"Riv," he says, smiling. "Happy birthday, buddy."

His daughters run over and throw their arms around him too. Dean makes room in the hug for all three of his babies. After kisses and hugs and "can we go home"'s, Dean finally lets go of his kids. River and Pandora go back to playing in the living room after being assured that daddy wasn't going anywhere. Patia, however, wants to be with her father so Dean picks her up and heads into the kitchen.

Mrs. Williams is there and she smiles when she sees Dean. She always did like him; knew he was a family man if given the chance. "Hi," he smiles. She sees the thanks in his eyes. After she gives him a quick hug, he tells her it, "Thanks, Mrs. Williams."

She smiles, winks at him, and says, "Mackenzie's in the guest room."

He nods, knowing she wants him to go to her but he can't – not yet. So instead, he takes Patia into the living room where he sees the rest of his wife's family: her brother, her sister, her brother-in-law, her sister-in-law, her two nephews, and her niece. He greets them all, knowing that they know something's going on between Dean and his wife. They exchange formalities with him just as normal; he knows they aren't holding anything against him.

Dean sits on the floor with the kids and plays while the other adults talk overhead. He's so happy to see his children again. He can't even begin to explain the feeling.

It's a few minutes of pure heaven before his wife walks in. He looks up from the doll house him and the girls are playing with and locks eyes with her. She's just as beautiful as he remembers her even though he sees the slight sorrow in her face.

She freezes walking into the room but no one notices – only him. Why was he here? Who invited him? Her mother, of course. Only her mom would interfere. Instead of saying anything right now, she saves it for later. She gives him a slight head nod before walking into the kitchen.

It's an hour later as they're eating cake. Dinner was through without any problems. River had been sung "Happy Birthday" and the cake had been cut. Everyone sat gathered around the table, eating cake while the birthday boy opened presents.

Purposely, Mrs. Williams had shooed everyone into certain seats so that Mackenzie would have to sit by Dean. (This didn't go unnoticed.)

But everything was going well. River was enjoying the presents. Everyone liked the cake. None of the kids were crying. And that's all that mattered for the moment.

"Where's your present, Mackenzie," her mother asks.

Looking up from her cake, she answers, "It's in the bedroom. I'll go get it." She smiles and stands up before she sees the look her mother is giving her husband.

"I'll help," Dean offers. He knew what Mrs. Williams was trying to tell him. And he thought her daughter could be pushy. Jeez.

Both parents get up and walk into the hallway – Dean stopping to give each daughter a kiss on the way. He follows her into the guest bedroom and he doesn't know how four people manage to sleep in there.

"Kenz," he says, closing the door quietly behind them. "We need to talk."

"Not now, Dean," she replies, looking for the present. She swears she left it in here. "And there's nothing to talk about."

He rolls his eyes. She was so stubborn at times. "Why didn't you talk to the lawyer?"

She stands up faster than he can blink. "You want me to?"

"No, but you said you were. I expected…"

"Fine. I will."

"Mackenzie," he says, getting slightly angry now, "stop it."

"Stop what," she asks.

"Being so stubborn. For God's sake, you could anger a monk."

And that stops her reply, but not for long: "I'm not being stubborn. I'm being realistic. I can't have a crazy guy fathering my children."

"I'm not crazy," he says back. "I told you the truth. You can ask Sam."

"For all I know, he's crazy too."

"Don't say that."

"Why not?"

"Because you know it's not true."

"You know, I'm not quite sure of anything right now. I mean I found out my husband was insane a few nights ago. Then I found out my mother likes him better than me. And then-"

"Mackenzie," he bellows. She stops. In a softer tone, he says, "Listen, you know me better than anyone. I've never lied to you; I _can't_ lie to you. And what I told you the other night was the truth. That was my life before. Why do you think I freak at the slightest thing – like all three kids having the same dream? It's because I know what's out there. I tried to protect you and the kids from it, but I can't hide it forever. You know how much I love those kids. Do you really think I would jeopardize that?" He pauses. "I would hope you know how much I love you too. I've been going crazy without you all."

"The kids miss you too." And he knows she's not ready to be back with him yet; but he also knows that she doesn't consider him crazy anymore – that she believes him at least somewhat.

There's a knock on the door and her brother sticks his head in. "Mom found the present." Mackenzie rolls her eyes, knowing her mother set them up yet again.

"Thanks," she says before glancing at Dean and heading back to the party.

* * *

Its two hours later. Everyone's gone home except Dean. He's saying his goodbyes to the kids, not sure when he's going to see them again. 

He hugs River and says, "Happy birthday, buddy."

The boy smiles and asks, "When are you coming back, dad?"

"I don't know," he answers. "Hopefully, soon." The answer must be good enough because River nods. "Be good for mom and grandma." Dean ruffles the boy's hair before turning to his daughter.

Patia, ever the daddy's girl, hugs him tightly. Dean kisses her forehead and returns the hug. "Daddy loves you," he whispers in her ear.

"Love dada," she tells him back and it breaks his heart a little to let her go.

Pandora's next with a hug and a kiss. But before he can let go of her, she demands, "Da kiss." Dean smiles and tries to kiss the tip of her nose, but she blocks him, clarifying, "Ma."

"Panny," he lies, "I already kissed Mommy."

"Again," she's adamant.

Rolling his eyes at his daughter, he stands up to Mackenzie's height. He does an eye-agreement with her to see if it's okay. It is. So he leans in and presses a kiss to his wife's cheek. He pulls back quickly though. "Better?"

Pandora nods and scurries off toward the living room where her siblings disappeared to only seconds before.

"Sorry about that," he says once she's out of earshot. "You know her…" But he can't finish because Mackenzie leans up and presses a kiss to his lips.

"Tomorrow," she tells him, "I think we'll be sleeping at home."

His eyes light up. "Okay. That's fine by me. More than fine."

* * *

It's the next night and the kids are sleeping in their own bedrooms. Mackenzie's just sliding into her own bed next to Dean. 

"Hey," she whispers, cuddling next to him as if nothing went wrong between the two.

"You sure you want to sleep here," he asks. "I mean I can go downstairs or…"

"Dean," she tells him, "I've been without you for two weeks. I definitely want you here."

He waits a few seconds as if pondering her answer before he speaks, "So you do love me…"

And she can't help it: she laughs. It's so Dean and she's missed that so much. "Yes, I do love my crazy husband. I'm going to have to learn to understand his… eccentric past, but I do love him."

He smiles, holding her just a little tighter. "Yeah, I love my crazy wife too."

And for some odd reason, that works for them and they know it'll all be okay.

* * *

It's the next morning when she wakes up still in his arms. He's holding on tighter than normal and she doesn't really mind. 

Running a finger down his nose, she wonders how she could have done it. Leaving him would break her so bad. He's half of her – the half that can reach the top shelf, that can make the kids smile just short of anytime, that can make her melt in a millisecond, that can vacuum _and__ still look good_. And she decides she couldn't leave him.

She watches as his eyes flutter open and she fights the urge to kiss them closed; she loves to watch him sleep.

"Hey," he whispers, adjusting himself so they're both on their sides, facing each other. He's got no shirt on and if she gets any closer, it'll be cotton on skin – not that she's complaining or anything. (A/N: Who would?)

"Hey," she whispers back. They're silent for a second before she asks him something that's been bothering her. "What'd you do while we were gone?"

He opens his mouth to speak, but decides better of it. Instead, he turns over and fishes his little journal out of the nightstand. Mackenzie had taught him the value of journals – especially while emotions were high. And while she was gone, he had written in it almost everyday. He puts it in between their bodies: an offering.

She glances down at it. "Dean, I don't want to go through-"

"It's okay," he reassures her.

She bites her lip and looks down at it again. Deciding it's okay – he_ did_ tell her that – she sits up in bed before picking up the book. She unlatches it and starts on the night she left with the kids. Dean repositions himself so he's leaning on one elbow right next to her with a perfect view of the chicken scratch he had scribbled so many nights ago.

She turns the page and she's on the night he found the divorce papers. "You cried," she says, part of her in disbelief. She had only seen him cry three times: once when they lost Rain, at the cemetery when she broke down over their deceased son, and one tear when River was kidnapped at the park. He just nods, confirming.

She turns the page again and again and again: but they're all filled with the same thing: memories of her and the kids, a score of how many beers that night, which one of their children's beds he slept in because he can't sleep in theirs alone. She's seen enough.

She closes the journal and latches it. She places it on her nightstand before pushing him back onto the bed. She straddles his waist and he holds onto her hips. "Don't ever do any of that again, you hear me? If I ever try to leave with those kids, you have my permission to follow us and fight tooth and bone to get them back."

"Kenz," he replies, "you didn't want me to follow you."

"I thought you were crazy," she answers. "Of course, I didn't. But as long as there are no other secrets like this hiding in your past-"

"There aren't," he answers quickly. He couldn't stand losing his wife and kids again.

She just continues on as if he didn't interrupt, "…then we should be okay."

"I promise there aren't," he repeats.

"I believe you," she says, smiling. "Now, we're going to have to chat about this 'night bumpers' come true thing, but for now…"

And she leaves the rest of the sentence out there because she's leaning down and kissing his lips. His hands run up her arms and cradle the base of her skull. And God, he can't believe how good his wife tastes after two and a half weeks. It's almost sinful.

"Mackenzie," he whispers, pulling her away slightly. He waits until he's got her eye, her full attention. "I love you."

She smiles, "You too, hon." And she kisses him again, because as much as he thinks she tastes good, she thinks he tastes better.


	21. Are You Ever Gonna Love Me?

**Title:**Nine Months: The Epilogue

**Disclaimer:**I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes:**Okay, I know, I know: I already did a Dean meets Mackenzie. But I just thought this one was so much cuter! So in the story, I'm going to use this one instead of the other one (even though I'll leave the other one posted). Sorry guys!

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"And how'd you get this cut again," Dean's nurse asks him. 

He shrugs. "Does it matter?" And he sticks his rear a little higher in her face.

It's an awkward cut to say the least. He had been enjoying the two weeks off from hunting Sam and he had taken when a hunt popped up a town over. So he went. And got cut. On the ass. So he limped back into town to his hotel. Sam refused to stitch him up because Dean didn't tell the younger about the hunt at all.

So now he's getting stitched up by this nurse that looks pretty damn good in what she's wearing. He's on the gurney, rear end up in the air as if he's ready for mating.

"Kind of does."

And the nurse isn't all that attractive anymore since she started back sassing him. "Well, I was fucking my boyfriend senseless," he begins, "when he bucked back on me…"

"How 'bout the real story," she asks, pulling one stitch a little tight.

He grimaces. "That was it."

"So," she says, "if I just happen to jack you off right now, you won't get aroused?"

"Dunno," he answers. "Wanna try it?"

"No."

"Then don't offer."

"Then tell me how you got it."

He rolls his eyes and caves. "Got in a fight and the guy whacked me hard. Fell right on my ass and landed on some glass." Well, it wasn't a complete lie.

"That's better," she says, tying off the stitches.

"What," he asks. "The view?"

"The story."

He nods slowly. "View's pretty good too though, huh?"

"Not bad," she admits, smiling though he can't see. Because, hey, it isn't.

She helps him gets his boxers from around his knees and slides them over his hips before doing the same with his jeans. "You know," he says, as she's tugging them over his stitching, "if you got to see my stuff, I should be able to see yours."

"In your dreams," she says. "Now turn over."

He turns over and lays on his back gingerly, managing to ignore the pain soaring into his rear. "Not talking about a one nighter," he tells her. "Promised. I'm talking about a date." She makes some notes on his chart, seemingly ignoring him. "Seriously, Nurse…" He reads her tag. "…Williams. Will you go on a date with me?"

She reads his charts. "Mr. Winchester, the doctor will be right in." And he takes that as a no. So it does surprise him that before she leaves, she grabs his hand and scribbles down her number and address. "I get off at seven. Pick me up at eight."

"Yes, ma'am."

And she almost disappears out of the curtains when he remembers to ask, "Nurse?" She turns back to look at him. "What's your name?"

"Mackenzie."

He smiles. "Okay, Mackenzie. I'll see you at eight. You think you can check my stitches for me then?" Rolling her eyes, she disappears out of the curtains. "I was just kidding," he calls after her.


	22. Father's Son

**Title:**Nine Months: The Epilogue

**Disclaimer:**I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes:**Nope.

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"What was your dad like," Mackenzie asks him one night. 

Pandora and River are sound asleep upstairs. Patia can't get to sleep because of the ear infection she had just got diagnosed with so she was laying on Dean's chest, finally sleeping. He's in the recliner, foot rest up, contently holding his sleeping daughter's form. Mackenzie's sitting curled up on the couch.

And the question's been bothering her ever since he revealed that Bobby wasn't his actual father, that even though their kids and Sam's kids call him 'Grandpa' and 'Pop-pop' and 'Popsicle' he isn't. He's the father figure to Dean and his brother, but not the biological one. She loves Bobby: couldn't ask for a better father-in-law. But still, there's the question there.

"I'm putting her to bed," he whispers over Patia's head. He stands up and heads upstairs.

Mackenzie wonders if she'll ever get an answer.

* * *

Three days pass by. They're at the park as a family. Mackenzie's sitting on the bench, watching as her _four_ children run around the monkey bars and slides and jungle gym. 

She's got to admit: the _oldest of the four_ is pretty attractive – he almost turns her on – as he runs over, presses a kiss to her lips, and slides onto the bench next to her. "Come on, Kenz," Dean teases. "Come play."

"I play enough with you already," she replies, holding in a laugh.

He smiles and settles in next to her as they watch their kids run around chasing each other.

He was silent a few seconds before he speaks, "He was… an obsessed bastard. He always tried to find Mom's killer." And it takes her a second to figure out it's his father he's talking about. "He put Sammy and my lives on hold for it." He's looking into the sky with that faraway gaze and his jaw clenched. It's killing him to talk about it, but his wife asked and he'll always answer her. "He put raising Sammy on me while he took off hunting the demon. Sometimes we'd be at Bobby's. Bobby was – _is_ like the father I should have."

She guides his face to look at her. "One of them must have gone right somewhere, because you're the best father I've ever seen."

And he smiles, because she's probably right.


	23. A Little Bit

**Title:**Nine Months: The Epilogue

**Disclaimer:**I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes:**Nope.

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"No fucking way," he swears out of ear shot of his daughters. "No cats." 

"Sam," Alexandrine tries to sway. "Both of those girls love cats. And Rocky died last month. They've been good ever since. Why not try the cat?"

"Andrine," he complains, "remember Ryan the bird? It crapped on me!"

Alexandrine laughs slightly, but stops when she catches the death glare he's sending her way. "Sam," she replies, standing up for her and the girls, "Ryan has nothing to do with a cat. It stays and that's final."

She turns on a heel and walks toward the living room where they had left their daughters and their new addition – Bitty, the kitty – seconds before.

And Sam sees why he married her, but really: her stubbornness could be the end of him some days.

* * *

It's three weeks later and Bitty's been a good kitty. So far there's been no accident, no escapes out the front door, and no biting or scratching. In fact, Bitty's a lot better than that god damned bird or Rover (and Rover was a good ole dog). 

But it's close to midnight one night and Sam's reclining on his recliner in the living room watching TV. Isadora gave him her cold and now he can't sleep. _Everybody Loves Raymond_ is on but he can't find it in himself to laugh; he's so tired.

That's when Bitty the kitty jumps up on his lap and settles on his denim clad crotch. She just sits there as Sam stares at her with the 'how could you' look. Then she starts to purr and look at him with her big blue eyes. She's a pretty one Sam will admit.

So Sam lets her sit there with him. As long as she doesn't bite or scratch, they might just get along.

* * *

It's another week of Bitty and Sam's bonding that he gets caught. 

He's looking for the cat because he wanted her to sit on his lap again. "Bitty, Bitty," he coos, getting under the table to get her. He reaches out a hand slowly and Bitty looks at him as if he's a crazy giant – which Sam will admit he might just look like to this little kitty who doesn't weigh more than six pounds.

Alexandrine comes in from doing a load of dishes when she sees him. Sam's bent over under the table whispering to the kitty he swore he hated. "Bitty, Bitty," he calls quietly again. "Come here, my little baby."

And she ponders giving him a smart remark or laughing for a second before she decides, "An affair with the cat is so not cool."

He bolts up, whacking his head on the table above him. "Frig," he swears as the table balances on his back before he lowers himself again. He crawls out and looks at his wife who's cracking up in the doorway. "It's not funny," he tells her.

She just laughs and watches as the cat prances over to Sam. She laughs harder.

"So now you like me," he says to the cat who's looking up at him with the 'who, me' questioning eyes. Sam picks her up and holds her like a baby. Bitty starts to purr happily.

That's when Isabelle and Isadora run around the corner, playing gleefully until they see their daddy holding their kitty.

Isadora breaks down into tears immediately. "No go Bitty! Mean Daddy!"

Isabelle, being the older of the two, walks over to her father and looks up at him with determination. "Daddy, I'm nice," she says to him with purpose. "You're tall and you'll drop Bitty and hurt her."

And Alexandrine just laughs harder.


	24. Angel Boy

**Title:**Nine Months: The Epilogue

**Disclaimer:**I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes:**Nope.

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Rain might be dead but he's definitely not gone for good. 

In fact, he's a big part of their lives.

* * *

Patia babbles into the air and Mackenzie just smiles. She can't wait until her daughters can speak. Maybe they'll tell her what the gibberish was. After all, they're always doing it. 

_Rain hands Patia a toy. "Doll," he asks her in his infant speak._

Patia smiles and hands a toy to midair before putting it down as if in front of someone.

_Rain begins to play with it once Mackenzie turns away._

* * *

Dean's dead asleep; his wife's in the shower. It's early in the morning and not unusual for one of the kids to sneak into Mommy and Daddy's bed. 

So when Dean hears the "_Dada_" interrupting his sleep, he reaches down – not even looking – and picks up his kid. He snuggles his baby into his chest and gives the child a kiss on the forehead.

_Rain smiles, snuggling into his father's embrace. He loves sleeping by his daddy._

"Daddy loves you," he says before trying to go back to sleep.

_Rain gibbers, "Love dada."_

Dean smiles, presses another kiss to the back of his toddler's forehead, and snuggles closer.

* * *

It's years down the road when River's going for a drive by himself. 

_Rain sits in the passenger seat, guiding his brother, making sure he doesn't get in a crash_.

River turns on the music and AC/DC blasts a full volume. _Rain, not liking the music, switches the station to country._

River grimaces at the sudden change but puts it off to being in between towers and lets it play.

* * *

Pandora's the only one that can ever really see Rain. She's got this sight… it's amazing. 

No one knows but her; she likes it that way. But she sees Rain around them, senses him when he doesn't want to be seen.

"Rain," she'll whisper to him and _he shows up_. Or she'll be thinking about him and _he'll walk around the corner, ready for whatever his triplet needs_.

So they build a friendship around midnight chats and smiles when no one's looking. And they're close – like they should've been.

* * *

Mackenzie sees Rain one night. Actually sees him. 

_He's standing in the hallway, clutching Pandora's teddy bear. "Mama," he says and walks over to her, looking up at her._

She doesn't know what to do. She knows from Dean's previous job that this is real. This has to be Rain, her son. But it scares her, shakes her to the bone.

"Dean," she yells, not taking her eyes off him. "Dean!"

And he rips around the corner faster than she can blink. "Kenz?"

_But by then he's gone, invisible to the world yet again – but never for good._


	25. Bed

**Title:**Nine Months: The Epilogue

**Disclaimer:**I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes:**Nope.

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"Dean," it's more of a gasp than a moan but he'll take what he can get. Right now, his head's between his wife's legs and he's kissing spots only he's allowed to touch. They're on the bed, her head on the pillows. And for some reason she's still wearing his shirt and he's still wearing those cotton boxers which suddenly feel a bit too tight. "Dean." There it is again. It's between a moan and a gasp, he decides. He'll ask her about it when she can think properly. "Again," she gasps/moans – he still can't tell which. "Do that again." 

And he starts doing that little move he learned from the rated NC-17 movie when he was seventeen. The _girls_ used to love that one – and his wife especially enjoys it now.

She lets out this throaty moan – _that_ one isn't borderline gasp – and then she's almost there…

"Daddy," a little voice asks.

And that turns him off immediately, shutting all systems down except the screaming in his head, "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

"Close your eyes," he commands quickly and a bit harshly. The moonlight's enough to make him and his wife visible to their five-year-old son. He pulls down his wife's shirt, clothing her somewhat better.

"River," she asks, sitting up on the bed, turning on the bedside lamp now that they're decent: the only remnants being the stickiness between her thighs, "what's wrong?"

"I had a bad dream," he answers.

"Okay," Dean says, glancing at his wife and getting off the bed and picking up his son. Dean carries the boy downstairs and into the kitchen. He sets him in the chair at the table before going into the fridge and pulling out the milk. "What was the dream like," he asks, pouring milk in a saucepan to warm it.

"A scary person took me away."

"Where'd he take you," Dean asks. He'd been having this dream for the past few nights but River could never say exactly where he was taken to, and thus, could not fully get over the dream.

"I don't know, Daddy. It was scary though: dark and cold. And I couldn't find you or Mommy."

Dean simply nods, pouring the heated milk into a mug for his son before placing it in front of River at the table. He quickly rinses the dishes and leaves them in the sink before sitting at the table across from the boy. "No one's going to take you anywhere, River. I'm not going to let them."

"Okay, Dad," he says, smiling up at his father. He always placed his trust completely in Dean. Dean's come to realize it must be a Winchester trait.

Dean smiles back and ruffles his son's hair before asking, "What'd you see when you came in Mommy and Daddy's room tonight?"

"You were kissing Mommy's pee-pee." And though it's slightly funny, Dean doesn't even crack a smile.

Instead, he clears his throat and replies, "Yeah, Riv. But listen to me, okay?" River nods, obediently. "I uh- you can't kiss people there unless you're married. I'm married to your Mom; I love her. And she lets me give her kisses." He trails off for a second, not sure if he's scarred the boy for life yet. "So you can't kiss people there until you're married. Then, if you're wife says it's okay, you can."

River nods. He's always been pretty sharp. "Okay."

"So what'd I say," Dean asks, making sure his son won't go around kissing some random girl on her…

"I can't kiss people until I'm married. Then I can kiss my wife where she likes it." And that hits the nail on the head more than Dean can say.

"Uh," he manages, stunned slightly. "Yeah, River. You got it, kiddo."

* * *

Okay, okay. This family I really love. What do you guys think if I wrote a chapter story on it? I'd do these OneShots still but a second, separate story that would have an actual plot. Review with answer. If I get **six** votes for a chapter story I'll write it. (Keep in mind that I get about three reviews per chapter! So if you want this, please say so!) Well, I'm off to do more writing. Hope you're enjoying and let me know what you think! 


	26. When the Rain Falls

**Title:**Nine Months: The Epilogue

**Disclaimer:**I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes:**Nope.

**Enjoy!**

* * *

She can't help it. The thoughts just pop into her mind. 

When the rain falls, her son comes to view.

She sees him playing with River and the twins. She sees him as an individual and his traits shining brightly. She sees him looking like Dean. She sees him bringing home finger paintings for the fridge. She sees him.

She sees him.

* * *

It's a hard downpour one day. Thunder and lightening and rain hitting the window so hard it thuds. 

River's reading a book on the couch while his sisters play with one another by the doll house in the living room. So she steals away upstairs and sits in the rocking chair in the master bedroom.

She rocks gently and watches the rain outside, thinking about her baby.

It's about fifteen minutes before she hears the garage door open and close: Dean came home early.

She listens and imagines what he's doing: ruffling River's hair and asking how the book is, giving Pandora a kiss on the cheek, kissing Patia on the forehead, asking which doll was him – _it's the cute one, right_?

She hears him shuffle upstairs. The kids must have said where she was.

Her bedroom door opens and she doesn't even turn around. Dean's got this way of moving around that she can pinpoint a mile away.

"Hey, Kenz," he says, leaning over the chair and pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Long day?"

She watches the window and answers, "No. It's just raining."

He's quiet as he sits on the bed and unties his shoes before kicking them off. He sheds his work shirt and tosses it in the hamper before putting on a plain black t-shirt over his undershirt. He takes off his watch but leaves his protection charm, wedding ring, and silver ring. He knows what the rain does to his wife, knows how she can react. So he tends to leave her alone for a while, give her space.

He's ready to go downstairs and make the kids some dinner; he's pretty hungry himself. But he has to make a little pit stop.

Leaning over the back of the chair, he places his hands on Mackenzie's arms. "I love you," he whispers against her ear, kisses her cheek lingering slightly, and rubs little circles on her arms. "Don't forget it, okay?"

She bites her lip a little and looks to her lap. "Okay."

He kisses the top of her head and disappears downstairs.

It takes about another five minutes or so before she can let go of the window – the thoughts of Rain – and return to her family.

* * *

Okay, you guys got the chapter story!!! It's titled **Nine Months: Two Weeks**. Go check it out! 


	27. The Cowboy in Me

**Title:**Nine Months: The Epilogue

**Disclaimer:**I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes:**Nope.

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"Sometimes I do," he tells her, hurts her. "Sometimes."

She blinks, surprised. "You do?"

He nods. "Every now and then when life slows down too much."

She wants to slap him, wants to hit him. How could he want to hunt when he has all this? "Dean…"

"Kenz," he interrupts, sitting up in the chair at the kitchen, "listen. Hunting's a drug. It's something you get addicted to after a while. There were certain things that I hated about it and when I stopped I despised it. But after a while, you need a fix."

She stands up a little straighter. Why'd she need to ask? Her and her god damned questions. "You don't want to leave though, right?"

"No. 'course not. Never."

"Okay," she nods, still not completely convinced. Shaking, she walks to the sink and starts doing the dishes.

He knows she's not okay with his answer, knows it doesn't completely satisfy her. But he doesn't know what else to say for a second. So he stands, walks over to her, and slides his arms around her waist. Whispering against her ear, he speaks truthfully, "Hunting's addicting but you and the kids are the ultimate drug. I can never get enough, okay?" And he senses all the worry drain from her immediately.

"Okay," she says, giving a smile he can see from the corner of his eye.

He kisses her cheek and disappears into the other room to get a fix from his kids. Cause really: eternal happiness is the ultimate drug.


	28. Digital Get Down

**Title: **Nine Months: The Epilogue

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes: **A little bit more… R-rated. It's got that Sam/Alexandrine sick humor with their kinks.

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS IS SOMEWHAT EXPLICIT! THERE IS NO ACTUAL SEX, BUT THERE IS MAJOR REFERENCES TO IT.**

* * *

"Sam," Alexandrine asked, amused, "what are you doing?"

Sam was away on business. He had brought his laptop along so that he could see his daughters' faces every morning and wish them good luck at school that day. But it was Tuesday night. The girls were asleep for two hours now. And it was just Alexandrine and Sam on the camera chat.

He had stood up and stripped off his t-shirt. Alexandrine couldn't see his face; instead she got the view of his abdomen and pant-clothed crotch.

"It got a little hot in here," he teased. "You tend to do that to me."

She blushed furiously and watched as he undid his dress pants, revealing his dark blue plaid boxers. "Sam, I don't think this is appropriate."

"Since when have you cared about that," he asked, sitting back down in his seat and raising an eyebrow.

It was true. She really didn't. As long as they didn't get caught of course. "So what are you suggesting?"

"What do you think," he asked, teasing her still.

She looked toward her bedroom door, double checking that it was closed, before answering, "Video sex?" He nodded, winking. Well, this would be one they hadn't tried before. She bit her lip gently, watching her husband on the computer. "And if I say no?"

"Then I better be getting to bed," he answered truthfully. "Have to be up at six tomorrow."

Standing up, she shed her shirt, revealing her pink Victoria's Secret bra, and shuffled her jeans off, revealing matching underwear. She sat back down on her chair. "And how do you suppose this happens," she asked, honestly wondering. "We're about a thousand miles apart."

He winked, getting up and disappearing somewhere behind the camera's range. She heard him shuffling in what he assumed to be his bag. Coming back, he sat down again and showed her his goodie: massage oil. "Sam," she said, astonished that he'd bring that with him. He must have planned all this.

"Go in the draw right next to you," he told her. And that's when she knew he did. She opened the drawer only to find a vibrator. Her eyes went wide and he chuckled, "I wouldn't leave you out, Andrine."

"Sam, I think we're going to hell for all this."

He just laughed, "But we're sure having fun along the way."

* * *

Okay, that just totally popped into my mind for their kink thing. So disturbing, yet so funny – lol. Hope you weren't too weirded out by them!


	29. Angel

**Title: **Nine Months: The Epilogue

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes: **This is about Sam and the hunt where Mackenzie left Dean.

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Dean drops Sam at the motel. They were on the hunt and finished it pretty nicely. No loose ends, no escapees.

So Dean drops him at the hotel by Sam's choice. He doesn't want his wife or his girls to see him like this. "Thanks," is all he says, walking toward the front desk.

Dean pulls away. A man has to do what a man has to do. He knows it.

Sam gets inside, manages to scrounge up some money so he can pay in cash. He doesn't want his wife to see that he got the hotel nearby. It might make her think something was going on.

Sam gets in his room and gets the ice container before venturing out and filling it up. He disappears into his room again and bolts the door.

The whole night he tends to his wounds: bandaging them again, applying ice.

It's three days later and the black and blues have turned an ugly yellow. But, still, he can hide that better.

So he checks out, calls for a taxi. He gets home just before dinner time.

Hesitating at the door, Sam peers through the little window. Isabelle is watching TV. Isadora is coloring a picture next to her sister. Alexandrine can't be seen, but by the smells wafting in from the kitchen he can only guess.

He slowly turns the knob and the door opens. He steps into the house and both his girls look over to the door, one at a time.

"Daddy," Isadora shouts and she's in his arms. Sam stands to full height, clutching his daughter to his chest.

"Hey, baby," he whispers in her dark hair. She smiles up at him.

"Bed time story?"

He nods, "Sure, I'll read you a bed time story tonight."

Isadora smiles again as her father puts her down and picks up her sister who's waiting patiently.

Sam hugs her also. "Were you good for Mommy?"

Isabelle nods, golden locks springing with her face. "Do you have to go again?"

"No," he promises. "Not for a while. I'm here with you girls for a few weeks. Think you can put up with your old daddy?"

She giggles at him, thinking. "Okay." He kisses her nose and sets her down before walking into the kitchen where he knows his wife's waiting.

He's right: she's doing the dishes, patiently waiting for her knight in shining armor to come home. His arms dance around her waist and his chest melts into her back. His mouth's automatically leaning down toward her ear. "Hey."

She smiles, putting the dish down. "Turn me around and say hello properly, Samuel."

He lets go and she turns around, smiling. He leans down, kissing her for the first time in what seems like forever. She returns the kiss and it sets in: he's home.

* * *

"…the end," Sam finishes, but Isadora's long gone. She been asleep for the past ten minutes, but he likes this story too.

He shelves the book and kisses his daughter's forehead before tucking her in a bit tighter. He sneaks out and gets into Isabelle's room next. He tucks her in, puts the book she was reading away, and kisses her forehead before slipping out.

He gets in his bedroom and sees his wife sitting in bed, reading. God, all of them were book worms. He smiles at the thought though.

Alexandrine looks up and grins. "Hey."

"Hey," he replies. "I've gotta take a shower. Don't want to stink for work tomorrow." She grins even wider and he thinks it's because he made that little joke. He's wrong.

He slips in the shower, curtain closing behind him. Its seconds later as the warm water is hitting all the bruises that she snakes in behind him and he realizes the smirk was more than a smirk. "Samuel," she whispers into his back, pressing herself there.

That's when she sees the first ugly yellow rearing itself in her face. She wants to cry, knowing what did it to him, knowing what put the mark there. But she doesn't. Instead, she's strong: kissing the back of his neck, climbing out, telling him, "Hurry up, okay?"

It takes him a few but then he's out and wearing that ratty old t-shirt and sweat pants that she swears are too short but he states the exact opposite. He gets in bed and lies down, looking up at her. "What's wrong, Alexandrine?"

"Just turn over, Sam," she tells him. He complies with blind faith. Carefully, she helps him roll up his shirt before she massages – gently – every bruise and cut, every muscle and scar. It makes her feel good as she presses a kiss to each one. It makes her feel like she's useful when he hunts.

So he lets her do it. He likes feeling her hands on him, likes feeling her lips without anything sexual going on.

When she's all done, she curls into his chest. His muscles are loose; she can feel it in the way he holds her. But he doesn't mind because all tonight is just about getting rid of the hunt – _forgetting _it.

* * *

Okay, something kind of cute. You know, of course, gotta have cute Sammy and not just dirty Sammy. Hope you enjoyed!


	30. He Can't Quit Her

**Title: **Nine Months: The Epilogue – He Can't Quit Her

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes: **This is when Sam and Alexandrine meet.

**Enjoy!**

* * *

He saw her before she even glanced in his direction. Beautiful lady with dark wavy hair. He'd guess her eyes were piercing green and when she looked up, he was right.

Sam was happy he couldn't be seen by her. It gave him more time to plan his move.

* * *

It was three crush-filled weeks later when he finally got up the courage to talk to her. He had been going in and out of the building where she worked as a secretary for a law firm for a while now, helping his boss with a case.

"So," he asked, somewhat nervously as he stopped at her desk. His boss had the feeling that there was a little something going on between Sam and the woman, so he had walked ahead to give them time.

She looked up, curiously. "How can I help you, Mr. Winchester?"

He cleared his throat. "I was wondering if you might like to get a cup of coffee some time or something?"

She smiled, sympathetic. "I'm sorry, but I have a boyfriend."

He nodded. "Alright. I… I uh, better be leaving then." And he scurried out the door.

* * *

It was three weeks later before something was mentioned about her.

Sam's boss called the younger into the office one day. "Sam, take a seat." Sitting down across from his employer, Sam looked slightly worried. Was he getting fired? "This isn't from employer to employee," his boss said. "This from pal to pal." Sam nodded. "Remember that girl you asked out a few weeks ago?"

"Yeah; the secretary."

"I saw her last night. Her boyfriend and she were not getting along very well at all. I think maybe you should try again." He needed some way to get Sam's morale up. Lately, the boy had been dragging his feet around the office.

Sam pondered it for a second. "Okay, sir."

* * *

"Hi," Sam tried once again, meeting her outside the office. She had just returned from some errand when he caught up with her.

She looked over to him. "Hi, Mr. Winchester. What can I do for you?"

Sam cleared his throat nervously. "I was wondering if you'd like to go for a drink or something."

She smiled slightly. "Mr. Winchester, I don't think that's the best idea."

Sam nodded. "Alright." And he left.

* * *

"For God's sake, Sam," Dean complained to his brother. "Don't take no for an answer!" Sam was over at his brother's for dinner that night. Mackenzie, Dean's wife, was sitting on the couch next to her husband while Sam sat across from them one of the chairs.

Sam shrugged. "There's other girls."

Dean rolled his eyes. "That's what I tried to say about Kenzie." He glanced at his wife, careful with his words: "She uh… wouldn't go out with me until I told her that's how it was going to be."

Mackenzie's eyes got wide. "Dean Winchester, that is not the story and you know it!"

Dean smirked, "You're right. I wouldn't say yes."

Sam smiled at the pair's banter. Maybe his brother was right.

* * *

"Hi," Sam said again. It was his third try and he'd be darned if she didn't say yes this time. "These are for you." He handed her a bouquet of flowers that he had picked up earlier.

She smiled shyly. "Thank you, Mr. Winchester. I'm still not going on a date with you."

Sam cleared his throat. "You're right." Screw the advice his brother gave him; Sam was the sweet one of the pair after all. "I'm going on a date with you. It's not my honor; it's yours to offer me a date."

Surprised, the secretary let a small smile slip. "What's your first name, Mr. Winchester?"

"Sam." Strike?

"Sam, I'd love to join you on a date." Hell no; home run.

* * *

Sorry for lack of updates. All my muses have been stolen. This isn't the best chapter, but hopefully it helps somewhat. Anyways, I'm trying to write another chapter to get it up sometime this week. Any ideas?


	31. Face Down

**Title:**Nine Months: The Epilogue – Face Down

**Disclaimer:**I do not own anything you recognize…

**Warnings:** Nope.

**Notes:** Sorry I'm such a bad author!

**Enjoy!**

**

* * *

**

It's been crazy: Isabelle's recital, Isadora's new dog joining the family, Alexandrine's hospital visit for dehydration, the murderer he was trying to defend in court, the press sitting on his front lawn since this case was now media-worthy. So it's no surprise when Sam slides off to work, dives into his office before anyone notices him – he _does not_ want to hear who the latest suitor is for an interview, and starts to work on his arguments. He does not want to be bothered. Hopefully, his secretary knows that. Hopefully.

* * *

It's an hour later as Sam puts the last few touches on his argument when the phone rings. It's Ted, calling from jail, wanting to know how the argument is going, when he can be bailed out, and what this means for his future. Murderers are so demanding. Especially this one.

Sam talks to him, dodging some questions, answering others. He finally gets off the phone and realizes the headache Ted causes every time he calls. Sam takes a mental note to get call screening and avoid more murder cases.

Reaching for the bottle of advil he keeps handy, Sam begins to take two pills when the door to his office bursts open. Reporters charge in with their cameras and microphones ready to go. His secretary runs in after them, apologies in her wake, mouthing "security's coming".

"Mr. Winchester," the woman says, microphone outstretched, "how do you-"

It's the last straw. These hawks need to keep to themselves and not bother him. He's busy, he's working. Hell, they call when he's trying to fool around with his wife or play dollhouse with his kids. Enough is enough.

Sam darts up, like a spacecraft being launched. "GET OUT!" But he can't say anymore because he's seeing stars and little birdies; his vision gets dark and all of the sudden he sees the floor.

* * *

Two nitro pills, fifteen "are you okay"'s, three security guards, and four hours later, Sam's being released from the hospital.

After being rushed to the hospital, Sam was admitted with hypertension. All the outside pressure raised his blood pressure an absurd amount, the doctor claimed. And while he was sitting in his office alone, he had calmed down, back to his normal pressure. Then, standing up too quickly had caused Sam to pass out. The doctor prescribed two weeks' worth of nitroglycerin, requesting Sam follow up with his regular doctor.

Alexandrine arrived several minutes after Sam did; she'd been on him ever since, worried as ever, trying to keep him from the media. Apparently, they got a good shot of him taking advil and passing out. The newest story is "Ted's Lawyer: Pill Popping and Hospitalized". How quaint.

"Ready," Alexandrine asks him, straightening his suit. He nods, sitting on the edge of the hospital bed and leans in for a quick kiss.

Alex hovers as he stands up without an issue and begins to walk toward the door, prescription in hand. The guards outside his room escort him outside, shielding him from the media. If this trial wasn't national already, it sure is now.

* * *

It's late that night as Alexandrine crawls into bed with Sam, sliding over to him.

"Ready for bed, Sam?" She smiles, sliding a hand down his thigh to get his attention. He glances at her, eyes darting from the book he's reading.

"'Andrine, really?" He smiles. Sex? Tonight? After all this? She wore him out some days.

She nods, lying, just wanting him to get to bed early. "I want you," she whispers huskily. The man in him gets the better of Sam as he practically tosses the book to the side and turns off the lamp on the nightstand.

He squirms under the covers, presses himself up against her, and begins kissing her eagerly. She pushes him away gently, "Oh, Sam. I forgot. I'm menstruating." She stifles her giggles and he sees it in her eyes: a lie.

"That was mean." He's kidding and they both know it. Thankfully, he just curls up against her, ready for sleep.

_Ring. Ring. Ring._

"Fuckers," Alex curses, climbing over Sam for the phone before he can get to it. He tries to paw it out of her hands but she's adamant about keeping the phone. "Listen," she growls into the receiver. "He's about to get laid. So I think you bastards best leave him alone tonight."

Hearty laughing comes from the other line, sending her for a loop. "Sorry," the voice says. "I was just checking in on Sam. But if he's about to get some, please do. Poor buggard deserves it. Tell him to call Ted tomorrow, Mrs. Winchester."

"Uh- okay," she replies, taken back.

"Happy mating." _Click._

Alex hangs up and lays back down, ignoring Sam's _who_'s and _what_'s. Finally deciding on what to say, she whispers, "He's sure nice for a murderer."


End file.
